LeCroix 11: Chas Ascending

Chas Angle strutted down the stairs of his new plantation house, gathered his extra-long sweat shirt around his waist, climbed onto his cycle, and roared off down the long driveway on his way to the Hornet's basketball stadium in downtown New Orleans. He'd have to wear long sweat shirts like this when he wasn't cruising or he's scare everyone he met on the street out of their wits with the size of his gigantic basket.

He didn't think he'd have to face the life that Philippe had for a long time. He was still young and virile in his own right. He wouldn't have to take life in feeding yet to rejuvenate as Philippe did for years. He could enjoy his sex. True, he'd have to feed occasionally to maintain the monster cock and ass canal he'd inherited from being invested into the life of his now-replaced mentor, but he'd just have to see how long he could go between feedings and still keep his size.

But now there was some exploring and experimenting for him to do, and he knew just where he wanted to start. That monster guard of the Hornet's basketball team, that seven-foot-two giant Andre Harris, whose physique promised to match the proportions of his height. Chas had gotten his nuts off while watching Andre for two seasons. Chas had that front-row seat, where he could moon over Andre and fanaticize about what the two of them could do together. And now, thanks to his topping of Philippe, Chas was good to go with a low hanger and a deep hole for weeks to come. It was time to make a play for Andre.

It wasn't as if they hadn't made eye contact before, and Chas had seen the interest in Andre's eyes. And now Chas had those mesmerizing violet eyes that Philippe's elixir had passed on to him.

So, there he was in the second half of the game, watching for his opportunity. Down on the floor, they were trying to figure out a foul by someone other than Andre near the end of the game, with the Hornets well in front on the score, and Andre had time to look around the stands in boredom. His eyes passed over the big blond guy in the front row who he'd seen and silently lusted after for the last two seasons. His eyes zipped back to the man and to those violet eyes. He hadn't remembered the man as having those violet eyes before. They pulled Andre in, and then his gaze went down. The big blond was holding up his sweat shirt, showing Andre his magnificent torso, with all of those nice tattoos and the rings in a nipple and his navel, and then his eyes descended even further. Holy molley! Look at the basket on that guy. He must be hung a good twelve inches to push out a package like that—if, of course, that wasn't padding in there. But Andre could feel his own twelve-incher taking notice of that body.

Andre grinned wide and pointed his finger directly at the blond, who dropped his sweat shirt and pointed back, matching grin for grin.

At the end of the game, Andre went over to the bench, jotted something down on a piece of paper and returned to where Chas was standing. Chas reached out for the note and Andre held his hand in his big mitt for a few extra seconds.

"If you think you're man enough," Andre said, "present this at the locker room door over there at eleven, and they'll let you in and show you where I am."

"I'll be there," Chas responded.

"Well, I'll let you view the goods, and you can always change your mind." And Andre and the team ran into the locker room and the fans cleared out of the stadium quickly.

Chas was there at eleven. He presented his note and was guided through almost-deserted halls to the Hornet's shower room. He was told where to sit, and then he was alone in the locker room. He was facing the showers, and there, through the steam, he saw Andre. Over seven feet of solid, perfectly proportioned black muscle, all in balance, including the twelve inches of meat dangling between his legs and the big tennis-sized balls. He was completely hairless and his body glistened with vitality as the drops hit and slid off to the floor. There was no indication that he'd seen Chas taking his measurement.

Andre turned off the shower, rubbed himself down, fastened the extra-big towel around his middle and padded out of the shower.

"Oh, you came, and you stayed."

"Of course."

"Most don't, you know. One look at me in the natural and most scurry off. I scare people—both women and men."

"You don't scare me. I want you to fuck me."

Andre laughed. "Direct aren't you? And brave. But you're so hot, I'm sure I couldn't hold myself in check, so no can do on the fuck proposition. That was some advertisement you did out there. Flashing like that; beautiful bod and that basket. Are you close to twelve too?"

"Longer."

"Yeah, right."

"Try me."

"I think we can settle on hand jobs and partial blow jobs. That's pretty much the limit for me because of my size. But I'm hot for you, so follow me."

We padded through deserted corridors to a workout area, and then to a smaller massage room. He flipped on the overhead light, but closed and locked the door and pulled down a shade over the window in the door.

"We'll be okay here," Andre said. "They'll all be gone soon, and I've got the key. The trainers know I do this occasionally, and they don't mess with me with the contract I've got."

Chas backed up to the massage table, facing Andre, and slowly pulled off his sweat shirt and pulled down his pants, taking his shoes and socks off when he stripped.

"Holy shit!" Andre said. "I've never seen anyone hung that low. And is that a ring in the tip? You're uncut. I understand that slides real well inside a man." He let his own towel drop, and his monster cock was well on its way to standing straight out, or, in his case, curve up in a gentle curve when it went hard.

"The ring comes with attachments," Chas said matter-of-factly. "But we'll see about that later."

Andre walked right to Chas and leaned down, searching for Chas's mouth. Chas turned his head, deflecting Andre's lips. "That wouldn't be wise, I'm sorry to say."

"Now, don't be shy, honey. Don't be a tease."

"Is this being shy?" Chas asked, bringing Andre's attention to his cock grinding around on Andre's thighs and to his hand that was already rubbing Andre's cock around beneath Chas's pecs. "But I don't promise not to tease."

Andre put his big mitts under Chas's thighs and lifted him up onto the high massage table, forcing his legs apart and moving in to where his and Chas's bellies and cocks matched. Chas had hold of both of their cocks and was rubbing them together; a meeting of the bludgeons.

"Can I kiss you elsewhere?" Andre asked. "If I can't kiss you on the mouth, can I kiss you elsewhere?"

"Sure, anywhere else, but I've got a cold and don't want you to get it. It's nothing to do with you. You are magnificent, and I'm not leaving here until you fuck me."

Chas had arched back and Andre was kissing and tonguing and sucking him from neck, down along his pecs and nipples and to the ring in his navel.

"No can do, dude. I go fourteen inches or more hard, and I get too excited when I'm fucking a hot fox or a hunk like you. I've hurt people, dude. I can't risk that anymore. I'll blow you and you can blow me, and we'll both leave happy."

"We're going right on by the blow jobs, Andre. I came here to get a monster fuck from you, and that's what I'm going to get. I came here to fuck you too, and, believe me, if you can take me, I can take you."

"Pretty cock sure of yourself, aren't you, Blondie?" Andre said. "But I kindda like that, even if it's all talk. You're making me real horny."

With that, he dropped his mouth to Chas's gigantic rod and started working it into his mouth.

"I said fuck me Andre. Fuck me now. The hole. Work on the hole and then fuck me." With that he plopped his rod out of Andre's cheek and raised his pelvis so that Andre's mouth went into his crack.

Andre went down on his knees and started tonguing and licking Chas's ass. After a while, he stood, reached over to a nearby table and dug out some oil. He oiled up Chas's ass as best he could, all the time trying to reason with Chas, to no avail. Then he oiled up his own cock real good. But he just stood there.

"This really ain't good, Chas. The last time I tried this, the woman went to the hospital and I never heard whether she recovered. I'm just too big for this world, man. I just have to live with it."

"Oh, for the love of . . ." Chas came off the table, taking Andre by surprise. He pulled on the big man's knees and he tumbled to the floor. Chas came down on top of Andre, straddling his pelvis and grabbed for the giant's hands and held them as he impaled himself on the athlete's curving cock.

"Oh, my God . . ." The blond guy had the widest canal Andre had ever plowed. He slid in six inches and then he had the sensation of a suction cup picking his cock up under the rim of the helmet and pulling him up, up, up, into the blond's guts. The blond's ass channel tightened like a sheath over Andre's cock and muscles moved up and down around the cock, driving the athlete crazy. Chas was arched back, his eyes focused on the ceiling, his own cock growing, snaking its way up Andre's belly and abs, reaching for the deep cleft in his chest. Andre had both of his hands wrapped around it and still they didn't meet.

"Oh God, Oh God," he was groaning and moaning and panting and gyrating his hips. Chas started pumping him deep. Fourteen inches of hard cock out and in, his ass walls grasping and releasing the cock as it stroked in and out. The suction sensation at the helmet of Andre's cock was sending little electric flashes through him, milking his precum hard.

Andre was writhing and bouncing up and down off the floor as he shot his semen deep inside Chas. When Andre was near to exploding, Chas had reached back and rolled and squeezed and pulled on Andre's balls, so that when he jacked off, Chas was milking everything that Andre had to give, which seemed like bucketfuls.

Andre flopped back on the floor, exhausted. He was crying. "God, Blondie, I've never had a fuck like that. You took me, you took me all. No, you didn't just take it; something inside you grabbed me and gave me the ride of my life. I had no idea how good it could get. God, I hope I didn't hurt you."

And then, "Holy, Christ!" He was looking at the cock he was holding. It had expanded to fourteen inches.