Grendel Rising

Chapter 2: Excavation-2

Shaking my head to dispel this fantasy, I next worked upward from the nose to the eyes, which closed protectively meanwhile. I could see the closed lids trembling slightly and was struck by the beauty of those quivering eyelashes. I continued to work upward, brushing off the strong line of the brow and the curve of the forehead.

When I had done this and was standing up to stretch, those eyes opened again and looked at me with such a warmth of expression that I felt a shiver of pleasure run through me. I closed my eyes for several seconds to regain my center.

There’s still work to be done, I remonstrated myself; and however pleasurable the task, it was still a task, and not a small one either.

I returned with increased impetus, clearing the dirt off right into the hairline and on either side, to where the ears began. Then I went back to the lower face and cleared the chin and jaw line. The intimate nature of the tactile experience, touching these magnified and beautiful male shapes had me almost shivering with excitement. The mouth in particular, being over half a foot in width, was especially distracting. Even looking at it made the heat between my legs become something closer to a distracting throb. Much more of this, I thought, and I’ll be coming in my pants.

I shifted to the neck, and had gotten down to the Adam’s apple, when I noticed the lips move and a large tongue peek out for a second. This stopped any progress for the moment as I just gaped at it appreciatively.

“Oh,” came a voice as the lips moved. “Thank you!”

The voice was very deep, with a rumbly timbre that not only made the earth vibrate beneath me (I must be on the upper chest, I decided), but made my entire body vibrate. I had a rock-hard erection by now and had to shift it to make things more comfortable. My face was burning, too. All in all, what I was experiencing was a kind of symphony of disturbing sensations: excitement, Eros, adventure, and impropriety—even danger. Perhaps the last two were due to my upbringing—I had chosen to live in the suburbs, after all.

Still, I managed to look up at those eyes, which were still watching me, and reply, even though my voice sounded shaky.

“You’re—you’re welcome!”

There was no response to this, and I experienced a momentary disappointment. Then it occurred to me the giant’s ears were still stopped with earth. Maybe he hadn’t heard me.

So, I smiled and nodded, then got up and began work further around the sides of the head, exposing the full baroque curves of the insides of the ears at last. They were well-formed, and I experienced another definite thrill as I brushed these free of earth.

Somehow, neither of us spoke just then. I was eager to resume the excavation, heart pounding and still hard in my pants. I unearthed the line of the shoulders out to the massive shoulder muscles, which were not just round like cannonballs but fully as large as cannonballs. Brushing these off was a particular pleasure, though I thought I would rather have been spreading oil on that wonderful, soft-hard skin.

I paused, looking down at those broad, built shoulders in admiration and appreciation. Cannonballs indeed! I thought. And then some words from an old, folk song came to me. Something like: I had a man, long and tall, who moved his body like a cannonball.

A moment later I had to slap a hand over my mouth to stop a loud cry of appreciation and excitement as I realized this was the very type referred to in the song.

“Focus!” I murmured to myself. So, without further sightseeing episodes, I returned to the task at hand, putting the energy of my excitement, not to mention the other emotions that were moiling around inside me, into the excavation.

Another crisis moment came when working along the swell of a massive, jutting pectoral muscle that culminated in an enormous and disturbingly pert n****e! The urge to bite, albeit gently, to take it into my mouth, washed over me like a wave.

By then I had become more comfortable with my state of chronic arousal. It was beginning to feel like a kind of simple, joyful happiness, though with giddy overtones—and a rock-hard boner. I didn’t adjust myself again. I thought if I took, as it were, the matter in hand, just one moment’s grasp of the throbbing shaft would send me over the edge, and I would c*m with a violence I could only imagine.

And how embarrassing would that be!

I focused my attention now on the beauty of the body I was gradually revealing. And not just that, but the sense of appreciation on how impressive every part was—the oversized and beautiful male human form. Every mass, every curve was indeed a work of art. And, not only that, but distinctly erotic art.

David! The thought came to me as I passed the form’s waist and was just moving down over the regular undulations of the eight-pack of abdominal muscles. Michelangelo’s statue! Wasn’t it supposed to be oversized? I was pretty sure of that, and now even an image of it formed in my mind—the one hand holding the sling that had killed Goliath over his shoulder, the furrowed brow. I took a daring moment and gazed across the upper half of the form I had partially unearthed, and decided this body—torso, neck and shoulders especially—had that sculptor’s effort hopelessly outclassed. This—whatever it was—was built!

So intense was my appreciation that again I had to put a hand over my mouth.

No screaming, please, sir! This is the suburbs after all.

I giggled helplessly and resumed my task.

Jake, by this point, was lying beside my work area, chin on his paws, watching.

“Hey, Jake!” I said to him. “Halfway through, eh?” He wagged his tail but otherwise didn’t move.

I looked down at the leading edge of my diggings and for the moment quailed.

I had exposed, without my being consciously aware of it, the hip bones and the V of lines called the V of Adonis that led from the hips to the groin. Almost down to…

Dismissing this disturbing, tantalizing thought. I got shakily to my feet. I went to the figure’s left shoulder, not looking at those eyes, but feeling them follow me as usual. Below the cannonball shoulder, I gradually exposed the bicep. This swelled impressively, to say the least. And then, on, to the forearm—another swelling that narrowed to the wrist, and finally the hand. The fingers, as I dug around them, were each the size of salamis, the middle finger about a foot long. Freed at last, they flexed, whereupon I almost cried out in intoxicated appreciation. They were just so big! But I kept my nerve and brushed away the residual earth—while fantasies of putting each digit in turn in my mouth and sucking and licking for all I was worth passed thru my mind. At one point this brought me almost to the brink of orgasm.

At last, the arm lifted majestically and flexed—which made the bicep bulge massively. When I had recovered from the effect this produced, I got to work on the other arm, and when both were freed, I felt the figure begin to stir. The head lifted up first, then the upper torso, arms on either side, until it rested on its elbows.

I watched this with a kind of stupefied awe, and a tiny amount of fear. But then, when I looked at those big eyes, which now regarded me with a twinkle added to the invariable interest—and saw the enormous mouth spread into a smile, I was utterly reassured, almost to the point of melting on the spot.

It was just then I saw something new, something amazing. The figure’s face, and then its arms and torso, began to glow with a silvery light. I watched, open-mouthed in awe and only after a minute or so noticed the shrubs on either side were now visible, and had shadows. I turned. There, through a parting in the clouds, was the full moon.

I looked back at the figure, and saw it was gazing, not at me, but at the brilliant, silvery moon.

A moment later, the figure—or perhaps giant would be a better term—sat up fully, and reaching out with its enormous hands, began the work of excavating the lower half of its body, still covered with earth and lawn. I stood back and watched this with astonishment. The thought did hit me, to be grateful I didn’t have to expose and brush off the massive private parts. And them, only a second or two later, this turned to disappointment.

It was amazing, watching those giant hands at work. For all their large size, they were curiously deft, each motion an act of care and precision, as they plunged into the soil and lifted the sod from below. In fact, there was something uncanny about how the strips of lawn parted when a large fingertip emerged, poking up through the soil. And it took very little time for the job to be completed.

And then!

Then, I watched in awe as the giant figure got slowly up, first to its knees, and then, at last, to its feet. And there it stood, fully revealed and totally naked, towering up above me.

I stared at the enormous, but beautifully shaped feet, pressing into the raw earth in which the figure had lain. The toes were as exquisite as the fingers had been. I then let my gaze travel slowly up the form, up the strong calf muscles, knobby knees, and the magnificent swell of massive thighs. My gaze leaped past the privates as if shied away, and I registered the vast, V-shaped torso, massive, jutting pectorals, up and out to those cannonball shoulders. The arms were out and down, fingers open and spread, and looking at the face I saw it was gazing again up at the moon.

And the silvery glow that now suffused that entire majestic form was so intensely beautiful that I turned to see if it was only the moon doing this.

The moon, which had fully emerged from the clouds now, looked more beautiful than I had ever seen it before. But it was just the moon, albeit a full moon.

I turned back to the colossus, which seemed bathed in silvery moonlight, giving off that silvery shine as if in some kind of sympathetic response. As I stared at this unearthly manifestation, I felt my jaw sag in abject, total appreciation. More than anything, what twisted my heart was the profound beauty I saw now in that enormous form.

With the giant gazing raptly up at the moon, I gathered my nerve and looked directly where I had wanted to look but had been too afraid.

And caught my breath, staring!

I swallowed painfully, but for several seconds I could not pull my eyes away. It was like looking directly at the sun, except it wasn’t my eyes that were dazzled; that was going on all through the rest of my body! But at last, I found I couldn’t sustain my gaze, and did look away.

What I retained, though, was almost too much to register. I recalled my previous thoughts about the beauty of the giant’s form. Form? I thought now. How wrong is that? This wasn’t a thing! It was—but again I caught myself—

No, I corrected myself. That simply wouldn’t do.

The evidence, quite literally, was right in front of my face—or a foot or two higher than that. I could not even dream of referring to this giant as it. It wasn’t just obviously, or even massively—no, it was emphatically, breathtakingly male—the very apotheosis of the masculine configuration that could only be referred by pronoun as—the most magnificent, most glorious manifestation of—he!