Maxxed Out I: Daytona Beach
By: GiantGuy

“I said, two Rolling Rocks and a Seven and Seven!” K.C. had to shout to be heard over the music and the clamor of the packed club.

The barechested bartender nodded while popping the caps off the beer bottles with both hands, slamming them down and turning to get the next drink. K.C. took one of the beers and handed it back to Noel, who jammed in behind him. The bartender slid the next drink to him, and nabbed the twenty out of K.C.’s hand. The hordes of people shouting their orders immediately shoved K.C. back from the bar, pushing him back into the crowd.

K.C. and Noel struggled through the sweaty bodies shoving through the tropical-themed bar. Making their way back to join Brett, their other buddy, K.C. leaned forward to shout in Noel’s ear, “NOW arentcha glad we came to Daytona? Pretty awesome spring break huh?!”

“WHAT?!”

“I SAID PRETTY AWESOME SPRING BREAK”

“WHAT?”

As K.C. took a deep breath to try hollering even louder, he bumped right into an iron wall of muscle, spilling the 7&7 all over a towering figure. The guy – who had to be six-five – looked down at K.C. with a blank expression, his mouth a thin line across his square jaw. He was dressed like most of the other spring-breakers in the club in tank top and baggy shorts, which exposed most of his thickly muscled body. His almost jet-black hair was cropped close, standing up in straight bristles. K.C. gulped – the guy could clearly pulverize them if he wanted to. He started to stammer out something, drowned out by the noise, when the man looked him over once and leaned down to say something.

“That YOUR drink?” he growled.

“Uh – uh – it was for my buddy – but yeah – shit, man, sorry, I uh –“

“Here,” The man took a full glass that was sitting next to him on the narrow wall shelf, and thrust it out to K.C.

“No – shit, you don’t have to do that, it was my fault and –“

“TAKE IT.”

K.C. did as he was told. The man stepped aside, unblocking the doorway to an outside patio. K.C. directed his gaze at the floor, having to squeeze by the man – eight inches taller than he was – to get outside. Noel was right behind him.

“Hey Kase – didja see that guy?”

“Uh, YEAH, jerkbrain”

“No, I mean did ya see who that was?”

“See who what was?” Their buddy Brett took the man’s drink out of K.C.’s hand, his slight southern drawl getting heavier the drunker he got.

Noel leaned against the railing of the outdoor patio, cooling off in the night breeze blowing off the ocean. “This huge guy – he plays for the XFL, and Kase here barreled right into him,”

Brett laughed, taking a gulp of his drink and wobbling a little bit. They had been barhopping since five o’clock in the afternoon – “Got to, guys, it’s our last day in Daytona” – and he was feeling pleasantly fuzzy. “Aw, man, you always think you see people”

Noel turned a little red as he swigged his beer. “No, this time I KNOW it is.”

“Hey, what is this, this ain’t 7&7 Kase.”

“I know, I spilled yours, the guy gave me his. Just fucking drink it, no way can I get back up to the bar.”

K.C. turned out to look at the beach – it was almost midnight and the place was crawling with thousands of students just like the three of them, all partying their brains out before spring break was over. Even with the breeze, the air was heavy and sticky, like a storm was on the way. He swiped the sweat off his forehead. “Dude, you said you saw Jennifer Lopez at Denny’s. You’re just cracked, man.”

“No, I recognize that dude. He’s on the Orlando XFL team, or he was anyway, I think he got canned.”

Brett laughed again, draining his glass. “Whole fuckin’ league’s gonna get canned man, you musta been the only one watching that XFL shit.”

Noel was distracted by a group of girls who had staked out the table on the patio. “Yeah, whatever man, I know it’s him.”

K.C. took another sip of his beer, watching Brett weave a little on his feet as he chewed some of the ice from his drink. “You about done man? Don’t be fucking puking in the car later, ‘member we got to leave in the morning.”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just got to go take a huge leak ‘fore I bust.”

“Good luck bro, the line’s a fuckin’ mile long.”

Brett grinned lopsidedly. “No problem, man. I’ll just head out on the sand.”

K.C. raised his glass. “Go for it.”

Brett hoisted himself up on the low wall that said “NO CLIMBING”, his head spinning with the effort. He hauled his lean swimmer’s body up and swiveled over, dropping to the sand on the other side. K.C. called after him.

“Meet us outside man and don’t fuckin pass out!”

“Will do!”

K.C. turned his attention to Noel and the gang of girls falling out of their bikinis, not noticing the muscled man standing just inside the doorway, his gaze following Brett over the wall and down the beach.

Man, there had to be a place to piss SOMEWHERE. He had to go bad but he wasn’t ready to just whip it out with so many people around on the beach. He thought of even going in the water – he was a damn good swimmer, one of the best on the team, but he knew better than to dive in as drunk as he was. He stumbled a little bit, his flip-flips getting caught in the sand. He kicked them off and marched a little faster, heading for a low rise of dunes. Some privacy – at least enough for him to take care of business.

Just as he turned his back to the water and shoved his shorts down enough to pull out his cock, he was surprised by a huge guy heading into the dunes from the other direction. From his powerful build and his swagger, Brett thought for a split second that it was one of the beach patrol and that he was busted already. He tried to bring his shorts back up but his brain had already sent the signal to start the waterworks, and he ended up spraying all over himself.

“Dammit! Shit!” Brett danced around, pulling his shorts back down, half soaked, trying to stay upright, just giving in to the pressure and letting the stream pound out into the sand. He felt a steadying hand on his shoulder, and looked up at a stern, chiseled face, with a hint of a smile around the mouth.

“Whoa there guy, just relax. Looks like you need that bad.” The man’s voice was deep and raspy. He chuckled, “Just watch where you aim that thing,”

Brett said nothing, just sighing in relief. Man, how many drinks did he have? He’d lost count. As he was nearing the finish, he heard another stream flooding into the sand. The guy had turned away slightly, but Brett could see his thick cock hanging out in a heavy curve as he pissed. The guy took a full minute and a half; Brett just stood there, drifting in a fog.

“Hey. Hey bud. You don’t want to back in there like that.” The sandpaper voice brought Brett back to attention. He looked down – there were huge wet stripes across his shorts, impossible to hide.

“Shit. I’ll have to go in the water and clean up.”

“Careful man, the undertow is a bitch.” Brett took an unsteady step toward the surf, and felt the hand on his shoulder again. “And you’re too fucked up to go in there anyway.” Brett turned to face the guy – broad, round shoulders deeply tanned, his torso narrowing in a V under his shirt, a little bit of flat, rippled stomach showing above his low slung shorts. The man raised one arm, his bicep casually flexing larger than a canteloupe – he jerked his thumb back toward the parking lot.

“I got a couple of ratty pairs of shorts in my van, you can just have one man, can’t have you goin back in there lookin like you just pissed yourself.”

Brett laughed again. “Damn man, I just DID piss myself.” They both laughed. “Thanks man, I could use it – but you’re a hell of a lot bigger than me, jeez.”

The guy cuffed him on the shoulder, sizing him up with his eyes. “We’ll figure something out. Let’s go.”

Noel leaned in to the girl who was slurping down her sixth margarita. “Hey... maybe you can help me? I lost my phone number, maybe you can give me yours.”

The girl rolled her eyes and leaned to whisper something in her girlfriend’s ear. They giggled. K.C. tapped Noel on the shoulder. “You’re bombing out, man. Time to bail.”

“Cool van, Max.”

Max slid the side door open, and Brett peered in. The orangey parking-lot light didn’t do much to illuminate the interior.

“Shit, dome light must have busted. I’ll have to go check it out. My gym bag’s in there someplace, just dig around. If you find a pair of shorts, they’re yours.”

Brett crawled up into the back of the van. It wasn’t too cluttered, a couple of cardboard boxes, some snorkeling gear, some nylon bags. He unzipped one, rummaged through it, pulling out a jockstrap – “Shit, the dude’s massive” – and then finding some beach shorts.

“Found some”

“Good deal man, just go ‘head, slip em on. I’ll just shut this, give ya some privacy –“

“Cool man, just take me a second –“

The van door slid closed and latched.

Brett fumbled with the drawstring of his wet shorts. How lucky was this – this dude Max was just going to let him have a pair of shorts so nobody would have to know he was too drunk to piss right. He laughed a little at himself as he struggled with the knot. He just shoved them down, trying to wriggle his lithe body out of the shorts.

He lost his balance and fell over as the engine roared to life and the van jerked out of its parking space. “What the f—“ He rolled, trying to free his legs, bumping against the side wall. “What the HELL...” he mumbled, as dizziness overtook him.

“Aw he’s probably face down on the beach, man, let’s go back inside and he’ll find us when he wakes up.”

“Shut up Noel, you’re not going back in there, those girls are a lost cause.”

“Man we’re wasting the last hours of spring break!”

“Let’s walk around back, see if we see him anywhere.”

“What’re you, his parole officer? Maybe he got lucky with some babe on the beach.”

“More likely him than you.” K.C. padded off around the side of the bar.

“Aw, whatever,” Noel grumbled as he followed K.C. onto the beach.

Max maneuvered the van onto the sand at the far end of the beach. He ordinarily would drive farther, but he was feeling especially horny tonight and he couldn’t wait. He crawled to the back and took a look at the kid sprawled out on the floor of the van.

This was a good one – just how he liked them – probably five- ten, brown hair that was turning sandy from the sun, slim swimmer’s body, a nice tan line coming along, and a respectably sized cock lying between strong, lean thighs.

Max grinned. His luck was still holding out. He’d always had the impulses – repressed, denied – but in the last few months he’d found a way to give vent to his urges. He wouldn’t go into any of the bars in Orlando, but the spring break crowds gave him as much anonymity as he was likely to get, given his imposing build. Slip a spiked drink to a sloshed fratboy, follow him around till he dropped, scoop him up and fuck him royally here in the van. He’d drill him until he’d blown a few wads up the kid’s butthole, then dump him back on the beach. They all woke up the next morning with no memories of what happened except for a stretched and sore ass. It was a perfect system.

This whole week the feelings had been particularly intense – usually when he was horny he felt it like a churning, surging feeling in his large nuts, but this time the feeling was spreading up from his crotch to his solar plexus.

He eased the guy’s shorts off the rest of the way and threw them aside, rubbing his hands up and down the smooth legs. He grabbed his ankles and efficiently urged him onto his stomach. Man, what an ass. Sometimes he just liked to spend some time feeling their bodies ... taking it slow. He wanted this one to last...

“Dude... aren’t those Brett’s flip flops?”

“Man, anybody could have lost those out here.”

“I recognize them, the back part was kind of getting chewed up.”

“Dude, you’re crazy.”

Brett swam up into consciousness as though out of a deep sleep. The smell of coconut was all around him... like suntan oil. Where was he? He was lying on carpet... strong hands were massaging his back, working smoothly over his skin... moving down ... onto his buttcheeks. He turned his head a little bit, trying to look behind him. He blinked.

Max was there, naked, looking like a covermodel for Men’s Fitness, straddling his thighs, his hands glistening with oil, rubbing him down and coating him with it. Brett tried to open his mouth to speak but his face felt like a dentist had shot him up all over with novocaine.

“Shh, just lay quiet there bud. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, and believe me, you don’t want to do it the hard way. Just go with the feeling...”

Brett laid his head back down – the effort to hold it up was too great. He let his eyes drift closed, and just let the feeling wash over him, the wide, strong hands working further and further down his body.

Max moved back a little, squirting some more oil onto his hands and then gripping the kid’s strong calf muscles, working them under his hands. He’d never been so turned on just by the feel of a guy’s body – the others he had wanted to fuck right away, but this one was different. The warm, churning, electric sensation was spreading out from his groin, giving him an aching, fiery feeling deep in his gut. He had popped a couple of muscle relaxants – horse pills, he called them – earlier in the evening to keep himself from getting too on edge – didn’t pay to be too anxious when he was looking to bag a fratboy. Must be the stuff getting to me, he thought. But it feels fucking fantastic.

He took another shot of oil between his palms, working his hands down onto the guy’s feet, running his thumbs over the strong arch and digging in to the sole, feeling the muscles relaxing under his grip. Fuck... he had never really been into feet before, but something about this guy’s feet was turning him on powerfully. His thick cock was jutting out from between his legs, starting to ooze out precum as he massaged one foot and then the other. Max found himself holding one up closer, and bending down to lick across the sole. His cock flexed and jumped, and the electric feeling in him whirled faster, surging into his bloodstream. He leaned down, holding the kid’s calf up, and sucked his big toe into his mouth. Nerve endings sang all through his body, and his opened his mouth a little wider, taking in all the guy’s toes and part of his foot.

Max was so turned on that his cock was beginning to feel like a baseball bat wedged between his thighs, swelling and hardening as he sucked on the guy’s foot. He brought the other one up, letting the left foot out of his mouth with a wet pop, and diving onto the right foot. He sucked and licked like he was possessed, the tingling, fiery feeling climbing through his body. He brought the left foot, glistening with oil and saliva, back toward his mouth. He managed to slip his lips around the kid’s left big toe while keeping the right foot firmly planted in his mouth. He pushed a little further onto his foot. Then he felt it, the familiar gag reflex, his throat spasming – the reason he’d never been able to suck his own cock, even though he could easily get it into his own mouth. He choked for a second, trying to pull the kid’s foot loose, as Brett’s leg jerked in reflex. Max found himself opening his mouth wider to get a breath, as Brett’s left foot slid in beside his right one. Max’s eyes widened in surprise, but he found himself breathing energetically through his nose, with the kid’s feet fitting easily in his mouth. Cautiously, Max gripped Brett’s ankles and then leaned forward, stretching his jaw further. He could feel tendons and ligaments resisting, then beginning to stretch like taffy, as his lips came closer and closer to Brett’s ankles. Max’s cock was swollen to an iron hardness, precum streaming out of his thick piss slit.

He rubbed his strong hands over Brett’s calves... the throbbing sensation was swirling through his entire body... he could feel heat radiating off his own skin. It was like an intense horniness. but more than that ... it was a hunger.

K.C. found one of the bikini girls stumbling out of the bar parking lot, heading to the beach.

“Hey... you remember the bud that we had with us...”

“Uh ... hey, yeah, the cute one.”

“D’jyou see him go back in? He’s sposed to be waiting out here for us.”

“Maybe he got tired of waiting, he got a ride.”

“Got a ride?”

“Saw him get in some van, thought it was your guys’s. He took off.”

Noel and K.C. looked at each other.

“Maybe he did just get tired of waiting.”

“Yeah, probably.”

They looked out at the main drag, crowded even now at one a.m. Vans were everywhere.

Brett was dreaming. He was in Hawaii. He’d never been to Hawaii, but the scent of coconut and papaya was strong. He was walking along a beach, he could hear the sound of the waves. He took a step, and the wet sand began to give under his feet. He stepped back, but that foot sank under also. The beach was turning to quicksand under him, slurping at his feet, sucking them in deeper each time he tried to kick free. He turned, sinking deeper every time he moved. His brain was spinning – didn’t he see one time on the Discovery Channel – the more you struggle, the faster you sink – the trick was to float on the sand, like you were in water. He stopped struggling, trying to get his muscles to relax. He was still sinking – the quicksand was up to his knees – he reached down to try and pull his leg free—the quicksand didn’t feel like watery sand, it seemed to have a tight grip on his knees – like thick rubbery elastic –

Max exhaled loudly and breathed deep again. That last gulp had brought the guy into Max’s throat up to his knees. A part of Max’s brain was standing back, observing, stunned at what was happening – bit by bit, he was gulping this kid down, somehow stretching his throat open enough to engulf this lanky swimmer bodily. The rest of Max’s mind didn’t care how or why this was happening – all he knew was that he was inflamed by a powerful, instinctual animal hunger, and he had to whatever he could to satisfy that hunger.

The small part of Max’s mind that was still rational was thinking... well how far could it really go? It’s not like I’m going to really swallow him whole ... am I?

Max grunted, lowering himself on his belly, bracing his legs and pushing himself forward, willing his jaw and throat to open wider to encompass the guy’s muscular quads.

Brett flickered in and out of full consciousness – he was aware of a warm, sticky grip around the lower part of his body that seemed to be rising higher and higher – was he paralyzed? He tried to kick his strong legs – he could move them, but there was strong resistance, as though they were wrapped in soft but dense rubber. He shook his head... the dizziness was beginning to clear a little. He felt something rough and wet – a tongue – probing under his thighs and licking at his ballsack, flicking the base of his cock. He tried to raise himself up on his forearms, looking beneath him. He almost passed out at the sight.

Max’s mouth and throat were distended to an enormous size, his jaw apparently dislocated, gaping wide like the mouth of a shark or a snake. His lips were wrapped tight around Brett’s thighs, spit mixing with the oil that covered his body, slurping up further, sucking at him as they advanced up over his ass and crotch. Brett felt icy-hot adrenalin pump through his chest as he understood the reality of the impossible thing that was happening to him. He scrabbled for a handhold across the floor of the van, but there was nothing to grab onto except nubbly carpet. He tried to brace himself with his hands and pull loose, but the minute his grip broke he felt himself dragged backward with a huge slurrrrp, like being drawn into a fierce undertow.

Max snorted, exhaling like an ox, then drawing a deep breath and preparing to gulp again. He had made it to the kid’s waist, feeling Brett’s smooth, round buttcheeks flexing against the roof of his mouth as he struggled to free himself. Max put his hands down as though he were about to do a set of pushups, and thrust himself up and backward, veins standing out on his thick biceps as he made the effort to sit up.

Brett felt himself being pulled up from behind, hanging downward, his face now rubbing against Max’s enormous cock, swollen so hard it was almost purple, the head flexing, the slit spitting up gobs of thick, clear precum. As he swung his hands free to steady himself, he felt Max grab one and then the other, stuffing them into his mouth, trapping them in the tight ring of his lips that was now advancing over his abs, up to his ribcage.

The blood was pounding in Brett’s head, and the encircling ring was making it difficult to breathe in this position. He could feel his cock rubbing against the slick grainy texture of Max’s massive tongue – and he knew, as crazy at it was, that he was fully hard. Muscles were flexing and contracting around his legs, pulling him in inch by inch. Max brought one of his hands to the base of his own cock, pushing the engorged head directly against Brett’s face. He resisted, trying to turn his head, gasping for breath. Then he thought – maybe this is the only way out – give in to what this huge fucker really wants. He opened his mouth, swiping his tongue across the plum-sized head of Max’s cock.

Max moaned, the sound vibrating through his body and into Brett’s, as Brett stretched to try and fit Max’s dickhead into his mouth. The best he could do, as he got closer and closer to blacking out, was to lick and slurp at the cockhead, wet with precum. Max’s belly growled, and he felt himself seized by an instinctual urge to gulp and gulp hard. Brett slid further into Max’s slick throat, pulled away from Max’s cock, wedged in Max’s distended mouth, only his shoulders and head sticking out. Brett gasped for breath, trying to call out before he lost consciousness completely. Max struggled – he was losing stamina, sweat flooding out of every pore, his body temperature soaring past 100 – the kid was lean, but he had wide shoulders. He had passed the halfway point – he didn’t think he had the ability to disgorge him after taking him this far down. He realized what he had to do. He had to swallow him – completely – or choke in the effort.

“D’you hear that, man?”

Noel and K.C. had been walking aimlessly down the beach, figuring they’d been ditched by their buddy for a better time somewhere else. (“Probably some PARTY man, and he didn’t invite us, so fuck’im.”)

They stopped, listening over the sound of the waves, and the sounds of the bars and clubs behind them up the beach. There it was again – a sound like Brett would make when you were beating him in a no-holds-barred wrestling match – (or the sound he makes when he’s jackin’ off in the next room and doesn’t know anybody’s listening, thought Noel.)

“I hear it, yeah I hear it.”

They both stared into the darkness.

“Hey – down further on – ‘zat a van, do ya think?”

The urge was growing stronger and stronger in Max – he gripped Brett’s shoulders, pulling on them, trying to squeeze them narrower to fit into his already stretched mouth. He felt the involuntary muscle flex come over him, like the gut- wrenching feeling of puking only in reverse. He gagged and then managed to stretch just barely wide enough for Brett to go slipping between his lips, sliding quickly over his broad tongue and into his spasming throat. The feeling of conquest and relief overloaded his senses. He felt the blood hammering in his ears, while between his spread legs his baseball sized nuts drew up and cannoned thick jets of cum out through his crowbar-hard cock. He could feel the guy’s body being drawn down his throat, pushing downward into his belly, stretching his stomach, pushing out the tight ab muscles into a ball right before his eyes. The feeling of pressure was incredible – almost to the edge of pain, but like the sensation of lifting a huge weight right at his max level – he saw his normally flat laddered belly bulging out further and further, trying to contain its new load. Max gulped for air. The heat from his body was intense, almost smothering him in the enclosed space of the van. He scrabbled for the door latch, trying to heave his newly weighted-down bulk out into the cool night air.

“I told you man, that was the same dude.”

“And I told you, you’re a fucking idiot. You always think you recognize people. And anyway, there is no fucking way that guy played for the XFL, you see how fucking huge the dude’s belly was?”

“Man even from here you could see how buff the guy was.”

“Except for the fucking megabeachball he had for a gut.”

“Just tellin’ ya man, that was the same dude.”

“Ah whatever. So Brett can get his own fucking ride back, who needs the asshole. Now fucking shut up. Next year we’re not coming back here.”

Max stood at the edge of the surf, legs spread wide, the water splashing up over his ankles. He had to lean back against the enormous weight in his gut – he rubbed his hands over it, still not believing the gigantic, swollen belly that jutted out hard and firm from his muscular torso. Still – it was a little smaller now than it had been fifteen minutes ago – probably by morning it would be back to the usual beefy sixpack. He breathed out, the sigh turning to a long, loud belch. The feeling that had been building in him all this time, the intense, mind-bending horniness that had led him up and down the beach, that had driven him to kidnap and ass- fuck half a dozen drunken college students ... it had finally led him to satisfy himself by doing this ... swallowing a guy whole ... in one long gulp like the most intense orgasm of his life. And now the itch was scratched.

Max wasn’t a man to ask a lot of questions. He accepted things as they came. His entire life was about pushing his body to its physical limits, and this was no different. He reached down, scratching at his ball sack that hung fat and heavy under his rubber hose of a cock. He felt the beginnings of the tingling feeling returning... the heat beginning deep in his nuts.

It was starting again.

(To Be Continued.)

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