The Singlet, Part 3 (Conclusion)

Rawson Masters, the 6’4”, 280-pound CEO of Thick Nutrition, gripped Oliver’s hand and squeezed. “Hey there, Oliver.”

“Hello Rawson,” replied Oliver with a smile as he shook hands back.

"How are things over here at Thick Sportswear?” asked Rawson.

Oliver smiled even more. “Growing. Everything is betting bigger…and better. Let's go inside my office and chat.”

The two men went into Oliver’s office and sat down at a small conference table next to the workout area. They talked about different ways their two companies could work together, but ultimately decided an acquisition would make the most amount of financial sense. The only thing they couldn’t agree on was which company would absorb the other one. Oliver thought that it made more sense for his company to be the one remaining since it had more cash on hand, plus he shared his last name with the firm, but Rawson argued he was the more known quantity with investors (having been CEO of Thick Nutrition for 8 years) and had worked in both the nutrition and clothing industries during his career.

After an hour of neither persuading the other, Oliver offered a possible solution: “Let’s wrestle for it.”

Rawson laughed. “You’re joking?”

Oliver shook his head. “No, sir. You and me right now. I got a mat in the closet we can use.”

“OK…” replied Rawson. He was going to add, “…but I wrestled for more than a decade and was heavyweight champion in both high school and college,” but he decided not to.

“Why give away my advantage?” he asked himself. “Oliver may be a little bigger, but there’s no way he can win against my level of experience. I’ve defeated a bunch of larger guys, and this chump will be no different.”

The pair got up and started to undress. Rawson pulled off his blazer and silk shirt, flexed his 54-inch chest, and stretched out his very broad shoulders. He then took off his shoes, socks, and pants, and all that remained were a tight pair of black-boxer briefs that showed off the size of his muscled ass in the back and his hefty cock in the front. Rawson caught a glimpse of his muscled physique in the mirror and his confidence level went even higher.

Five feet away, Oliver took off his clothes as well to reveal his own massive 6’7”, 320-pound physique bulging out of the very special singlet he had on. He didn’t know about Rawson’s wrestling experience, but even if he had, he wouldn’t have cared because he somehow knew deep down his muscles wouldn’t let him down.

“I’m the biggest, strongest motherfucker around,” Oliver said to himself. “I’ve got the power of 10 men – fuck it, 20 men – and I’m gonna make sure that my opponent doesn’t just lose but is completely humiliated.”

Oliver then took the mat out of the closet and laid it down on the floor of his office. He went over to the door, locked it, and asked Rawson, “You ready?”

Rawson reached down to adjust his cock in his shorts. He checked out Oliver’s old-fashioned singlet and laughed at the fact that a guy who ran an innovative exercise clothing company for men was wearing such an out-of-date garment. It only made him more confident. “Fuck, yeah. Let’s go, pussy.”

The two men took their positions on opposite sides of the mat and stared into each other’s eye. The air was heavy with sweat and testosterone, and any man watching would have certainly had an erection at the display of virility.

Rawson decided to attack first by rushing toward Oliver with tremendous force, but Oliver surprised Rawson by quickly vaulting out of the way. The nutrition company CEO fell forward, landed on the mat, and turned back toward his opponent with an angry stare.

The bigger man stood over Rawson and glared right back.

Rawson couldn’t believe that Oliver was so nimble, but he wouldn’t miss the second time. He collected his composure and acted like he was going to just stand up, but instead rammed his shoulder into Oliver's stomach as hard as he could. Rawson miscalculated exactly how unbelievably solid Oliver’s midsection would be, however – it was like crashing into a brick wall. His legs buckled upon impact, and he fell onto the mat a second time.

Rawson spat out the word, “Fucker!”

Oliver remained stationary and continued staring at Rawson. He bounced his pecs up and down and flared his nostrils.

Rawson slowly stood up, took a few steps back, and then ran right toward his prey. This time he dropped to the ground at the last second and tried to bring Oliver down by kicking out his legs, but the big man’s ultra-strong calves easily absorbed the blow. For the third time in less than a minute, Rawson found himself lying on the mat, but now he was out of breath and in some pain. None of his maneuvers had worked.

Sensing impending victory, Oliver raised his left leg and placed his foot in the center of Rawson's chest. Then he pushed downward with enough force to hold the man down.

Rawson tried to lift Oliver's leg by arching his back, but he couldn’t budge the heavy foot on top of him. He screamed and pushed with everything he had, but it was no use.

"Just how strong are you?” asked Rawson.

Oliver laughed and added more pressure. "Strong enough to do some damage. Real damage to a little fly like you. Is that how you want to go out of here…in a wheelchair?"

Rawson grabbed onto Oliver’s leg and tried one last time to dislodge it, but he was simply too weak. "Fuck! I give up," he said. It was unfathomable that he had lost given his level of experience and that he wasn’t that much smaller than Oliver, but Oliver turned out to have some freaky strength that he had not anticipated.

Oliver removed his leg, grabbed Rawson under his arms, and lifted him from the floor. “So now that I’ve won and it’ll be my company buying out your company, would you like to see how strong I really am?”

“Yes, please,” replied Rawson.

The big man began to flex his muscles as he held Rawson in a bear hug. Rawson felt himself being crushed by Oliver's expanding pecs in front of him and Oliver's boulder-size biceps on his sides, and his breath became shallow as he couldn't expand his chest to take in air. He tried to flexed his own muscles as well, but his body was no match for Oliver's power, and his face became flushed as he was squeezed tighter and tighter.

"Please, let me go!" Rawson cried. “You’ve got too much muscle.”

“Sure thing, runt,” said Oliver as he let Rawson go. “But there’s no thing as too much muscle. You’re just jealous that I’ve got so much more of it than you.”

Rawson gasped for air and almost fell to the ground, but he managed to remain standing.

"Shit, I wasn't even fully flexed," said Oliver as he struck a most muscular pose. “That was only about 15 or 20% of my full power.”

"God..." Rawson said.

"Yes, I truly am a muscle god," Oliver said as he saw Rawson's cock begin to expand in his shorts. "You want to worship this god, don't you, runt?"

"Yes," said Rawson.

Oliver said nothing, but he changed his pose to a double bicep.

"Please," Rawson begged. He moved his hand to his growing cock and rubbed it. "Please!"

Oliver walked closer. "Before I let you worship me, show me your arm. Flex it.”

Rawson obeyed, forcing his meaty right bicep into a hard peak.

"How big would you say it is?" asked Oliver.

"21 inches. Just measured yesterday," Rawson said.

Oliver smiled and raised his arm next to Rawson's. Flexing, Rawson's bicep disappeared behind an arm much, much thicker, taller, and wider than his. "Mine is 26 now. So much bigger than yours. And stronger, too. Check it out, runt."

Rawson released his flex and put his hands on Oliver's arm. It was huge, hard as a bowling ball, and achingly sexy. Looking to Oliver, he asked, "May I lick it as well?"

Oliver didn't respond.

"Please!" Rawson begged.

Oliver hesitated and then smiled again. "Yes, runt."

Rawson’s tongue lurched to Oliver's bicep and lapped at it like a hungry dog. He licked around it, and buried himself in Oliver's armpit, taking in the intoxicatingly musky scent of the man-god.

"Look at all this muscle. Look at all my power. I bet this arm is stronger than both your puny ones combined, Raw. Do you want to see it in action?" asked Oliver

Rawson stopped. "Yes, sir."

Oliver extended his arm out in front of his body. "Go on. Try to move it."

Rawson grabbed Oliver's hand. He positioned his arm for the most leverage and pushed. His forearm thickened, and the peak of his bicep rose, but Oliver's arm didn't move. In fact, Oliver didn't react at all.

"Try two hands, runt," Oliver suggested.

Rawson put his other hand on Oliver's arm and pushed. Both his arms shook with the strain, but Oliver's arm didn't budge a millimeter. Rawson put his full 280-pound weight behind it, and still Oliver's arm didn't move. Rawson moved to brace himself against a nearby wall, grabbed Oliver's arm again, and pushed with his legs.

Oliver laughed as Rawson's hamstrings bulged, but his single arm repelled all the force in the man’s body.

Rawson screamed to get his adrenaline going. His whole body quaked as sweat dripped out of every pore, and he began to rock back and forth trying anything to move Oliver's arm. But nothing was working. It was if he was trying to move an entire planet.

"Give up?" Oliver asked.

Rawson, now exhausted, did indeed give up. "You really are a god.”

"Yes, I am," agreed Oliver. "Would you like to see your god's cock?"

Rawson's breath deepened with excitement. “Desperately.”

"You may remove my clothes," Oliver said regally as he finally lowered his arm.

Rawson carefully put his hands on the singlet straps and lowered them to Oliver’s sides, and then pulled it down Oliver’s legs. As he did so, he took note of the specialness of the fabric – it was strong, rough, and created a tingle on his fingertips. Something about it made him crave it…he wanted to try it on once Oliver took it off. He wanted the singlet on his body…he wanted to know its power.

But Rawson’s train of thought was interrupted when Oliver's monster penis, freed from its confines, smacked him in the side of the face. He quickly dropped the singlet and moved his mouth to Oliver’s groin and began licking the beast from the head to the base.

Oliver began feeling his gigantic boulder-like pecs and fantasizing about showing off his immense strength to other men, which caused his cock to grow longer and fatter.

"How is this possible? It must be 18 inches long and 10 inches around," Rawson said.

"Gods can make anything possible," Oliver said as he crushed his cock into Rawson's and pressed it against the smaller man’s midsection. "Every inch of me is so much stronger than you. So much bigger. So much harder. Think about all my muscle and power. It allowed me to take everything from you, and yet here you are begging to be remain near me. Begging for whatever kindness I’ll toss your way. Do you want more, runt?”

“So much more,” cooed Rawson, as he continued to lick and stroke Oliver’s cock.

“As long as you do whatever I say, I’ll let you pleasure me from time to time, and I’ll let you help me keep growing. You can serve spot me in the weight room and serve me my protein drinks. You can watch me take on more muscle, and get bigger, and stronger, and take what I want from the world.”

"Oh god!" screamed Rawson as ejaculated, spraying his load between Oliver's pecs. At the same time, Oliver shot his jism into the air – it went over Rawson’s head and ran down his back. Both men embraced, more so to keep from falling over after their massive spews than from genuine emotion.

Afterward, Rawson picked up the singlet and was about to try it on…he was still so curious about the mysterious feeling he had gotten when touching it before. But before he could even get one leg into it, Oliver’s massive right hand grabbed his forearm in a mighty grip, causing Rawson to freeze with an expression of intense pain on his face.

“Sorry, runt,” Oliver said gruffly as he took back his property. “Nobody wears this singlet but me.”