By BBMSN
I should have been studying. My head knew that, my heart knew it, but my cock didn't. My
third year of medical school, and I had a lot to prepare for before the end of the semester. But I
couldn't help it. I was so horny. So here I was, cruising the internet, whoring around in a chat
room. At first I was hoping that I could pop one out just getting into come cybersex, but that was
not working out. I needed some physical contact. So I was in my city's m4mnow room. As rarely
as I was able to do this, I was surprised to see many of the same names I'd seen in the past. It
was like going to the local gay bar, where it was pretty much 'same faces, different night'.
Then I noticed a name I'd never seen before. "2Tuff2Handle". That sounded interesting. His
profile said he was 32yo, 6' tall, 220lbs, solid muscle. That sounded real interesting. It also said
he got into roughhousing, gut punching, and wrestling to submission, winner take all. His quote
said "I don't lose, so how deep can you take it?" Whoa. Not too cocky, huh dude? But I liked it.
Made my loins react. I had wrestled some in high school, and even though that was now about 7
years ago, I figured what the fuck. So I IM'd him.
"Hey, 2Tuff," I typed. Then I hit send. My screen name was StrugglinStudnt. My profile showed
that I was a 26yo college guy, lean and muscular at 5'10, 175lbs. It also explained that "Studnt"
meant "Student", not "Stud, not", as so many clever little twits on line had pointed out. 2Tuff's
response was immediate.
"Where are you" Nothing like being direct. I told I was in my apartment, and what part of town
that was.
"Not far. Man enuf to come over?" Whoa. Two sentences, and the guy had my heart
pounding faster, and my groin stirring.
"That could happen," I answered tentatively, trying to feel out the situation.
"you a college boy"
"med student"
"come over"
"when"
"now i need a sweet thing like u to pound"
"what makes u think u'll be doing the poundn"
"come over"
Dude already had me so hard I could hardly think straight. And to prove it, I got his address
and headed over there.
I had to be crazy, I thought as I walked to the bus stop. The campus and my apartment
where in a not real nice part of the city, but Tuff's address was in the worst part of town. Skid
fucking row. Why did that make me more horned up than ever?
The bus let me off about two blocks from his place. At least that was good. I felt like a
snowflake in Harlem walking around down here. It was getting dark now too. Fuck.
His apartment was on the third floor of a walk-up tenement building. My heart was pounding
so fast by the time I got to his door, that I thought I might have a heart attack. I had to knock twice
before the door opened.
"Hey," I said.
"Come on in," he said. I stepped in, then he shut the door and locked three deadbolts and two
chain locks. "Rough neighborhood," he said with a shrug. Tuff was a good name for him, given
his look. Dark and swarthy, he had an Italian look. Maybe even Romanian. Prominent strong
nose that looked like it had been busted a couple of times. He had black hair, and a thick goatee
with some gray in it. He took a step toward me. "You out of breath just from those three floors?"
he asked.
"Nah, man, I'm just a little nervous. I don't usually do this sort of thing."
"Good," he said. Then he stepped into me, pulled me into him, and started kissing me. Deep.
And hard. His bristly goatee scratching against my face. I could feel the strength of him, holding
me there, and as I groped his body, I could feel the solid muscle through his tee shirt. We worked
each other's mouths until we were both hard.
"Feel better?" he asked me.
"Big time."
"Good. Now hit me."
"What?" I asked.
"Hit me, boy. I wanna see what you got."
I took off my jacket and laid it on a chair. Then I turned to Tuff and hit him in the gut.
Apparently, not hard enough. The guy didn't even budge.
"That's not a hit, boy. This is a hit, " and I barely saw his fist as it swung into my gut, sending
me backward into the wall as I doubled over. I slid down the wall onto the floor, trying to suck air
back into my lungs. "Now you're gonna have to do better than that, punk, or I will really hurt you."
Then he peeled off his tee shirt and tossed it aside. The part of his online profile that said he was
solid muscle was accurate. He had an extremely broad chest and a thick 6pak, all covered with
dense black hair. He had the arms of a bodybuilder. A big bodybuilder. His forearms were
unusually large, at least double my own, and so hairy, almost like a pelt. He looked like he
weighed more like 240lbs than the 220 his profile had indicated. Maybe 260. The room almost
immediately filled with his scent, which was like that of a construction worked who had worked all
day and had not yet had time to shower.
"Get up," he said. He crunched his hands into fists so hard that I heard knuckles popping.
I started to stand, and as I did, I looked over at the front door.
"Go ahead and try, punk," he said.
Instead, I braced myself against the wall, then launched myself at him. I figured I had to give it
a go, maybe knock him off balance, then get the hell out of there.
I flew into him, my shoulder hitting his lower torso. He took two steps backward before
regaining control. I kept trying to push him back, but to no avail. He leaned over and wrapped his
big arms around my waist, and lifted me off the ground like a sack. He yanked me back and forth
in the air a couple of times, then tossed me clear across the room, slamming into a bookshelf.
"Ahh yehh, that's more like it," he said. I could see his hardon growing inside his jeans. He
readjusted himself as he swaggered toward me. "Come on and fight me, schoolboy."
I got up and stood into a crouched position. We began to circle each other. This guy had 65lbs
of muscle on me. He was probably an ex-con. His arms were so strong, he could snap my neck
like a twig. No one knew where I was. I was scared shitless. My breathing was shallow and fast.
And I had the most incredible hardon I'd ever had in my life.
"Bring it, cocksucker," I said to him.
"Ohhoohhoo, little man. You are in for a world of hurt."
And we tangled up. Arms to shoulders. For the most part, he completely dominated me,
moving me around the room. But every once in a while, I'd give it back, feel him lose some
balance, giving me some hope. He was basically toying with me, wearing me out. At times, I felt
the pressure of his big arms bearing down on my shoulders so hard, I thought they'd pop out of
joint. The pain was excruciating. And goddam glorious. I wanted him to hurt me. I wanted to feel
the power of him. To use me.
But I wasn't ready to give it up just yet. I put my foot behind his ankle and swept his foot up as
much as I could, at the same time as I pushed him backward hard as I could. He stumbled back,
breaking our hold, and fell onto his ass so hard the whole apartment shook. I jumped on top of
him and jabbed his big Roman nose as fast as I could, speedbagging it, hoping to bust it one
more time. He started to rise up, with me on top of him, so I rolled around him, put my arm around
his neck, and pulled him into a headlock. I grabbed one wrist with the other and tightened my
hold. He stood up all the way, with me on his big back. I wrapped my legs around his waist and
rode him like a monkey. He grabbed my arm and started to pull. The strength in his arms was
unbelievable, but I kept the hold locked despite the intense searing pain.
Suddenly, he ran backwards, and slammed me into another bookshelf, knocking the wind, and
the fight, out of me. I arched back in pain, breaking the hold. He stepped away from me, leaving
me to fall to the floor. On my way down, I grabbed at something on the shelf to hold onto.
Whatever it was, it wasn't attached to the shelf, and fell to the floor with a loud thud. I looked
down to see a stout brass vase rolling on the floor.
"My mom's urn," Tuff said slowly.
I looked at the vase again and saw that the top had fallen off, and grayish white powdery stuff
had spilled out. Tuff looked at me hard.
"You're fucking dead," he said. "You're so fucking dead."
"Dude, it was an accident. It's okay. Look, we can sweep it back up." As I went to upright the
urn, he put his boot on my wrist, crushing it into the floor. I tried to pull free, but he just bore down
harder, nearly breaking my wrist.
"I'm looking at a fucking dead man," he said. His face had changed, gotten darker somehow.
His eyes too. The veins on his neck were standing out. Thick ropey veins, to match the thick
ropey muscles of his bull neck. He walked away from me, and I rubbed my wrist, as he picked up
a lamp. He jerked the cord out of the wall, then ripped it from the lamp. He came toward me,
twisting the cord in his beefy hands.
"I'm gonna bust you up so slow and hard. This could take hours. Maybe days."
"Dude, take it easy man, don't...."
But he kept coming at me, leaning down, grabbing my ankles with one hand and practically
lifting me off the floor, tucking my legs behind one big arm. Then he started to wrap the cord
around my ankles. I was beginning to panic.
"Fuck. Dude...stop..." I flailed at the floor with my hands. I grabbed the urn. I pulled myself up
toward him with my abs, and swung the urn at his head. Hit him square in the forehead. He
dropped me, and stumbled back. He was stunned, but still standing. I threw the urn at him hard
as I could, clipping him in the side of the head. Blood was already wetting his hair as he hit the
ground.
"Oh fuck," I muttered. He lay there, still. I went over to him and nudged him with my shoe. He
was so solid. I nudged him again, harder, but he didn't move. I kneeled down next to him and
reached out to his neck. I felt for his carotid artery and detected a pulse. Still alive. I stood up, and
kicked him in the ribs. He barely budged. Even unconscious, he was strong as an ox.
I went to the bathroom and came out with a towel, which I put on his cut. The bleeding seemed
to have slowed. I started to put my jacket on to leave, but I looked back at him there, laying on the
floor. Big strapping madman. Twice my strength. Laying face down on his floor, with his muscle
ass mounding up his jeans. How often would I have a chance like this, I thought.
I went over to him and undid his jeans. Then I stuggled to pulled them down over his ass. Big
strong he-man ass. The ass of a god. Fucking figures its on a lunatic. Glutes exposed, releasing
his musk into the air like an aphrodisiac. I went back into his bathroom and found some K-Y. I
lubed up his deep ass crack. I got a condom out of my wallet and pulled my pants down. I
straddled the big fucker, looking at his massive back span, how it mounded up and down,
perfectly symmetrical, a down of black peach fuzz on it, glistening with sweat. I jerked myself till I
was hard, then put on the condom. Then I fucked him. His ass twitching on my cock reflexively as
I entered him. I felt the power of him. I got harder in him as I thought of what he would do to me if
he woke up. With me fucking him. In his own house. Surrounded by the dust of his mother. I
arched into him harder as I braced my hands on the thick, heavy muscularity of his broad back.
"Who's the fucking punk now, mutherfucker," I said, as I came inside him. So hard it made my
balls churn, shooting every drop I had, clear down from my toes. Guess a near death experience
will do that to you.
But as I pulled out of him, I felt a change. The room seemed too still. I looked down at him and
thought, oh no man, don't do this. I felt down to his neck for a pulse. I couldn't find one.
"Oh no no no no, " I said, standing up. My heart pounding out of my chest. Fucking hell. Shit.
What do I do now.
I went to the bathroom and flushed the condom. I thought while the toilet refilled. Then I
flushed again. No one knew I was here. All I had to do was leave. Wipe the fingerprints off the
urn, and leave. Leave and go back to becoming a doctor. They might not find him for a week or
two. Fuck. This sucked.
I went out, put on my jacked and undid the locks on the front door. Just as I was about to leave,
I thought about our online chat. The goddam computer. I went into his bedroom and saw a desk
with a laptop on it. Dude lives in this apartment, and still has laptop. Go figure. I unhooked it and
took it with me. Maybe they'll think it was a robbery.
I got to the bus stop just in time to catch the M4 back to my neighborhood. When I got there, I
found a payphone and called the police and said I'd heard some commotion in the apartment next
to mine, and gave Tuff guy's address. I didn't think I could go to sleep without at least doing that.
Tomorrow, I would get rid of the laptop, and would never, ever hook up online again
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