The Bionic Stud: Nailing Morgan

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A physically enhanced teen bangs a smoking hot cheerleader.
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Rubirosa
Rubirosa
813 Followers

NOTE: For those of you joining us for the first time, this story is a vignette from Rubirosa's series "C*ck Star." The chronicle focuses upon the private life of a public figure.

As the most accomplished porn star of modern times, Samson lives out popular male sex fantasies on a daily basis. This story focuses on our hero's early adventures when he was just an everyday high school gigolo and championship bodybuilder by the name of 'Lance Leo.'

Lance has just turned 18. Like many seniors at Peoria Tech, he plays football, smokes pot, and dates cheerleaders. He listens to hip-hop but prefers heavy metal bands. He scored in the 38thpercentile on his SAT's. His GPA hovers just below a 2.3. Lance wears Magnum XL condoms and is able to sleep with any woman he desires. This is his story.

*****

Lance rode his Harley at 70mph in a 30mph zone. The chilly autumn air exhilarated him. His luxurious mane of jet-black hair fanned out in the wind as he raced through the countryside. Jane would have been pissed her stepson didn't wear a helmet. Tough fucking shit. He loved the freedom of the open road.

It had been less than a week since the juvenile got booted out of Special Forces. But it felt more like a year. As instructed by the CIA brass, Lance enrolled at the local high school the day before. As a condition of his discharge, he would pose as a transfer student at Peoria Tech. Lance had just turned 18 so his cover as a high school senior appeared marginally plausible. Further, the experience hopefully would allow a smooth transition into civilian life.

The classes bored the fuck out of him but he dug the chicks. They seemed to be everywhere: short ones, tall ones, blondes, redheads, and even a few punk babes with rainbow-colored hair.

In the military, Lance never spent any time with girls his own age. Sure, the teen stud enjoyed banging cougars on the base but somehow he felt like Uncle Sam cheated him out of his adolescence. Lance never got to screw cheerleaders on lover's lane. He didn't seduce cute emo girls at dance clubs. Nor had the budding playboy hooked up with stoner babes that hung out in the parking lot behind the 7-11. Fortunately, the ladykiller suspected his luck would soon change.

During his first day at school, Lance barely spoke a word to anyone. However, he overheard talk about a big party that night. The hostess was Morgan and today was her 18th birthday. Lance saw the homecoming queen from a distance in geometry class. She looked cute. He decided to go to her party. And, if she proved willing, he would fuck her.

THAT NIGHT

"FUCK YEAH, BABE!" Lance growled as he savagely thrust his supersized love muscle into the squirming female beneath him. Jane was a cougar with a capital C. At 35, the Iraq War veteran still sported a slim-and-stacked body that turned heads at the gym where she worked out two hours a day.

Technically, Jane was his guardian. Technically. In reality, Lance had become an orphan at 16 when his father died in combat. The CIA recruited the emancipated youth into a secret program that engineered soldiers with 'enhanced' psychological and physical capabilities. Lance became the Army's first subject in a clinical trial of a new experimental drug. The results astonished his doctors. At Fort Benning, he broke all existing records in the physical fitness test for incoming trainees, performing 128 push-ups in two minutes. While most soldiers required 18 months to complete the grueling schedule of combat training, the young soldier took an accelerated course of just 6. By the age of 17, he worked solo on several classified missions in the Middle East.

However, Lance also experienced side effects. His penis grew unusually large, as did his libido. His battlefield bravery proved a liability in social situations. The teen had no impulse control. Off the battlefield, the warrior stud seduced dozens of female soldiers. As the disciplinary reports piled up, the military brass decided to cut him loose.

Jane served with Lance's father a decade earlier. They also had been occasional lovers over the years. As soon as she heard about his son, the female vet intervened and offered to become Lance's guardian. Jane wanted to take care of the troubled youth.

In reality, Lance had been taking care of Jane. The teen stud had fucked the cougar every night since he moved in with her a week ago. The blossoming libertine was having a blast. Before his discharge, all of his liaisons had been rushed affairs in the barracks. Getting caught on the base with a co-worker carried serious consequences for both parties. But, with Jane, Lance could take as much time as he liked during their lovemaking. The youth really got to know her body. He learned what she liked and how to make her come like crazy.

Jane felt him reach her innermost depths. She cried out in pleasure. Her voice sounded hoarse after shrieking out his name one time too many. How long had they been going at it? She came home from work at nine and the clock on the wall had just passed midnight. Holy. Fucking. Shit. It was crazy. It was wrong. It was amazing. Jane understood the risks of sleeping with him. The kid was half her age. She had been appointed his guardian just a week ago for Chrissakes.

Moreover, Jane was nobody's fool. Men only wanted one thing from her and she had little inclination to give it to them. So why Lance? The answer did not manifest itself in thoughts so much as sensations. Jane was floating in a sea of bliss right now. Her veins flowed with Oxytocin. Lance was her love drug.

She knew her desire for him had a scientific explanation. Even though a stable relationship was supposed to be built on trust, a woman still wanted the biggest, strongest man she could find. Even if he acted like a moron sometimes, she felt safe with an alpha stud like Lance. It didn't matter that they no longer lived in caves. Females naturally fell for confident bad boys that could give them multiple orgasms.

Speaking of orgasms, she could not deny the allure of his prick. Jane never fancied herself a size queen but Lance was spoiling her for other men. It hurt the first couple times they made love but now she craved the way he stretched her out and filled her up. With each body-shattering climax, Jane felt closer and closer to him. The feeling may have been illusory but it still bonded them on a primal level.

She felt his thrusting hips grind to a halt. His tool throbbed inside of her more insistently than before. He was very close. Her lover didn't moan so much as roar his pleasure. After all, he was Lance Leo, the fucking lion. In a flash, his entire body stiffened. His face lit up like lightning before a storm.

Jane braced herself for his onslaught. In physical terms, the teenage bodybuilder stood a foot taller than his partner and outweighed her twice over in sheer muscle mass. Even when Lance tried to be gentle, she could not help but feel plundered underneath the lust-crazed juggernaut. In heat, his lovemaking became almost savage.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!" he thundered. Though Jane heard it before, the volume of his deafening yell still startled her. The bed shook ominously as a full-body climax overtook the teen stud. Even with his cock sheathed in a Magnum XL, Jane could feel him violently tossing off inside of her. His ejaculation grew so forceful that she feared his phallic artillery might rupture the condom. And his crescendo just went on and on and on. Lance's orgasmic firepower seemed inexhaustible. It must have been another of those dreaded "side effects" he acquired in the clinical drug trial. Poor guy.

Jane felt very close. An unbearably blissful tension coiled inside of her, tighter and tighter. She dug her nails into his broad shoulders. She rocked her hips furiously against his crotch. She held on for dear life. Jane screamed, partly in pleasure, partly in shock at the enormity of the pleasure she experienced. She felt wetness sliding down her face as tears squirt out of her eyes. It was so much... too much... and she never wanted it to stop.

The onrush of tempestuous bliss shot up to a blinding peak. Then, slowly and steadily, the turbulence gave way to a tingling serenity. For the first time in her life, Jane knew what it meant to be spent. Her limbs felt limp and heavy. Every muscle in her body felt relaxed.

When she opened her eyes, Lance's face hovered mere inches above. He had been watching her response to him closely.

"Oh," she finally said, the utterance partly a sigh, partly an acknowledgment of his presence.

"Oh, indeed," he replied with a smile. "So tell me, babe, was that better than what you read about in Cosmo?"

The mocking tone of his remark didn't bother Jane. His badinage lightened the emotional burden of their encounter.

"Not quite," she told him sarcastically. "But we can try again."

Lance didn't answer. He gently withdrew from her and crawled out of bed. Jane gazed in awe as he carefully unsheathed his Magnum XL. It looked like a half-filled water balloon. He blew incredibly huge loads. Lance quickly tied off the condom to avoid any leakage. He then went into her bathroom to flush it down the toilet.

Her naked lover emerged from the bathroom and crawled back into bed. He knelt above her supine form and bent down to kiss her goodnight. Jane's lips parted and she met his tongue stroke for stroke. Lance finally pulled back with a flirtatious smile.

"To be continued," he informed her.

She mock-groaned. Actually, it was late. He got out of bed and headed to the door. Lance slept in his own room. Jane wouldn't have kicked him out of her bed but they both recognized the need for boundaries.

"You going to sleep?" she asked.

"I'm going to look at porn on your laptop," he joked.

"You guys are all the same."

"Yeah, except I have to jack off with two hands."

In truth, Lance had no plans to look at porn that night. He planned to sneak out to Morgan's party as soon as Jane fell asleep.

"I love..." she paused, letting the words hang in the air. "Your big dick."

"I love it too," he smiled. "Sweet dreams, hon."

Jane fell asleep an hour later. Lance crept downstairs on tiptoes. He quietly wheeled his Harley out of the garage and rolled it nearly a block from her home before staring the engine.

Even though Lance didn't know Morgan's exact address, her McMansion was the only home lit up at 2am. He hung a left and slowed his Harley to 50mph. Parking sucked. SUV's and luxury cars clogged both sides of her street. Without a second thought, Lance revved the engine of his cycle and drove onto the manicured lawn of Morgan's manse. He hopped off his bike.

A few teens stood outside. They gave him the fisheye. The stranger breezed past them with a slight nod. The joint was packed. Katy Perry blasted on the stereo. Lance weaved his way through the crowd. He never saw so many cute girls in one place before. A few smoldering looks got sent his way. So did a few nasty ones. The jocks did not welcome his arrival.

Lance walked into the back yard. The crowd thinned out. A couple preppies shared a joint by the pool. Three women. Two guys. Lance made the blonde for Morgan. She wore at T-shirt that read 'Kiss me. It's my 18th birthday.'

"Who's that guy by the pool?" asked Brian.

"He looks like a biker," noted Alex.

"Or a druggie," chimed in Kelly.

"Did you invite him?" queried Alicia.

"I'll handle this," declared Morgan.

The blonde locked eyes with Lance. He smiled back and crooked his index finger: "Come Hither." She walked up.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey, back," he replied.

"You know this is like a private party."

"Sorry to crash. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, Morgan."

"You might want to go."

"I'll go. But I had a present for you."

"A present?" she asked incredulously.

"Meet me upstairs in 20," he told her quietly. "For your present."

"Dream on."

Morgan and Lance went their separate ways.

"What did he say to you?" asked Alicia.

"Nothing," Morgan lied.

Lance walked back inside. He had twenty minutes to kill until his fuck session with Morgan. The teen Lothario had no doubt she would be waiting upstairs for him. Despite her rudimentary 'bitch shield,' his rugged manner and appearance clearly aroused the girl.

On an intellectual level, Lance understood his actions were bold, even reckless. On his first day at school, the teen crashed the party of the most popular senior in the student body. He parked his motorcycle on her front lawn. When she asked him to leave, Lance propositioned her. At no point in the past ten minutes had his pulse cracked forty beats a minute. He should have experienced fear but didn't. In fact, that emotion had become virtually unknown to him since his classified transformation.

Though the army doctors had intended for his medically induced courage to be an asset on the battlefield, he did not quite turn out as they expected. Along with becoming fearless in wartime, their subject also lost any sense of anxiety in social and sexual situations. If he didn't mind dodging bullets in a combat zone, why would Lance be scared of asking a girl for sex? No scientist had considered the obvious consequences of neutralizing the part of his brain that produced fear.

While most guys his age found socializing with girls to be awkward and intimidating, Lance only experienced lust and desire. Every which way he turned, the teen stud saw attractive females to seduce. They met his longing gaze with hungry looks of their own. Lance smiled. Getting kicked out of Special Forces had been the best thing that ever happened to him.

"Yo, Fabio!" called a woman from behind.

Lance spun on his heel. Though he didn't understand her reference to the Italian romance cover model, she clearly wanted to speak to him. The brunette had a nice body. But she wore a bit too much eye shadow. And her breath stank of cheap wine.

"So what's the deal, dude?" she slurred. "You're not from around here."

He took a step back. She took a step forward. Lance winced. The girl seemed determined to occupy his personal space.

"Is that a sock in your pants?" she asked. Lance responded with a puzzled glance. She grabbed his crotch to clarify her inquiry. He got the point.

"No, darling," he explained patiently. "I did not augment my bulge through artificial means. Nature endowed me with a ten-inch cock."

The woman cracked up. Lance took another step back. She staggered forward and grabbed his shoulder for support. Lance suspected she might puke on him. Without missing a beat, he swept the woman off the ground in a fireman's carry and deposited her on the nearest couch.

"You should fuck her," a farm boy with a crew cut told him. He saw everything.

"Not my style," Lance responded. "Besides, I am going upstairs to bang Morgan in ten minutes."

Farm boy cracked up.

"You're funny, man. But she's right. You're not from around here. Do you plan on trying out for the football team?"

"Why?"

"Cause you're a head taller than everybody in this room. A guy like you could mow down the defensive line."

"Does your team have cheerleaders?"

"Fuck, yeah! This is the U. S. of A., bro."

"Duly noted."

Lance bid him adieu and looked for the stairs. No one saw him go up. The hallway was empty. He turned a corner. Morgan was already waiting for him. She silently pointed to her bedroom. They went inside. She closed the door behind them.

"Don't tell me," he smirked. "You've never done something like this before."

She nodded quietly. Yes, Morgan had "done it." But, NO, not "like this."

Truth be told, Lance hadn't "done something like this" either. Sure, he nailed plenty of older women in Special Forces. The delinquent got sacked for his repeated indiscretions. But a Midwestern house party felt just as exotic as Afghanistan to him. He never spent any time with civilians before. However, Lance had heard about "hookup culture." It sounded perfect for a guy like him.

"Don't worry," he reassured her. "I've been with a lot of girls. You're going to love this."

Morgan experienced a surprising sense of calm. She actually believed him. The stranger was direct but not physically aggressive. And he fit the part of a seasoned playboy. Lance resembled a young Antonio Banderas with his Latin looks and long licorice locks. The teen hunk had popped up on the popular clique's radar almost from the second he arrived at school. "OMG! OMG!" announced the first of many texts that vibrated through her phone that day. "The new STUDent is HOTT!"

Lance pulled down the shades of her windows and turned to her. "Do you want to open your present, birthday girl?" he asked.

Morgan paused. She had popped an E-pill or two earlier that night but the love buzz had not clouded her judgment. The teen queen wanted this as much as he did. However, she had to make him work for it just a little bit.

"Take your shirt off first," Morgan finally answered, deflecting his question. Lance tore off his tank top to reveal his flamboyantly muscular physique. OMG! OMG! Morgan instinctively compared him with her last boyfriend. Steve played varsity football. He looked good in the buff. But Lance belonged to another league. His torso flared out in a dramatic 'V' like the hood of a king cobra. He had arms that outsized her thighs. And Lance didn't have a six-pack. He had a perfectly sculpted eight-pack. Morgan only saw guys like him on Game of Thrones. They didn't live in Peoria.

Lance flexed and posed a bit with a mischievous grin. He bounced his massive pecs one at a time, then both at once. His ironic expression appeared to say, "Yes, I am a championship bodybuilder but I also admit the sport is a bit ridiculous." Morgan giggled but she also was impressed. He looked really, really strong.

She couldn't help but think of Steve. Her ex had passed out somewhere downstairs. She wondered what would happen if he was drunk and stupid enough to stop by her room in hopes of a whiskey dick quickie. Steve would not be cool with this guy. He probably would try to start something. And this dude looked quite capable of beating the crap out of him.

"You like?" he asked.

"I'm still not there yet," she smiled with an encouraging amount of flirtation. "Take off your jeans."

Lance immediately popped open the button fly and dropped his pants. Morgan dropped her jaw. The teen hunk could have modeled underwear for Calvin Klein save for one flaw. Though calling it a "flaw" might have been uncharitable. He had a log inside his skivvies about as large as her forearm. There was no mistaking his length or width or its plump, pulsing shape. The massive bulge ran parallel to his waistband all the way to the very outside of his thigh.

"Happy Birthday, Morgan," he said with a Cheshire grin. "Time to unwrap your gift."

"You know," she half-joked. "You seem pretty full of yourself."

"I am. And soon you will be full of myself too."

Morgan laughed. The guy was cocky but he could afford to be. Lance was incredibly sexy. Morgan sidled up to him. She dipped her finger below his waistband, pulled it out, and let go. It snapped against his lower abs.

"So what are we going to do about this?" she asked him.

"Don't worry about that," he whispered, his tone more serious than before. "This really ought to be your night, girl. I'll do anything you want. Honest." Lance closed in for a kiss. She melted into his arms. Morgan knew in her heart that he was a shameless Don Juan. But she didn't care. Who could resist a bad boy that rode in on a Harley?

Lance held his kiss with Morgan. She parted her lips and he eased in his tongue. A hand unzipped the back of her dress. He was escalating their encounter way faster than previous guys but the ascent felt smooth and graceful like the near-vertical ascent of a supersonic jet. Lance unhooked her bra with just one hand. Pretty suave. Even Morgan needed both hands to undo it.

Rubirosa
Rubirosa
813 Followers