How long the man had been walking, he did not know.
He was in a desert now, but not always had been.
He was alone as well, but knew there once had been others.
And for how long his clothes had been missing, he would not have been able to say, for the man had absolutely no memory of such things at all!
On he walked. On into the distance, past the horizon, and into the far.
Over and over again.
Until walking was the only thing that seemed to exist at all.
The man's buff bare body should have been burned, blistered. But the ginger hunk's skin remained as fair as the snow. Untouched by the elements that should have left him dead, let alone injured.
For there was no sun in the sky of this land.
No wind in the air.
No heat on the sand.
No matter from where this hero had traveled, he was now in a country of laws all its own.
Laws that governed more than just men.
Laws that were of time. Laws that were of space.
Laws that beckoned the man forward.
Laws that called him to a destination unknown.
The hero should have wanted for food. Should have thirsted for water.
But for as long as he was here, wherever here exactly was, the man would remain never more healthy, never more strong, never more virile.
His corded muscles seemed to grow as he walked, to bulge from his naked form anew.
The further the man journeyed into this realm, the closer to its heart he ventured, the more powerful he became.
Readying him.
Preparing him.
On he walked. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the past. One foot before the future.
An ancient pilgrimmage that which many had traveled before.
But these others were not here now.
He was here alone.
This quest was his.
And it would be he whom would succeed.
Or it would be he whom would fail.
---
The Temple rose in the distance.
A single point above the horizon, growing larger with each step.
This was why he was here.
Somehow the man knew it to be true.
He was here to go inside.
He was here to face its dangers.
Chosen.
By chance or by fate, he could not say.
But chosen he still was.
The gates of The Temple stood high and unbreached, as he neared its base. Great slabs of metal heaved from the earth, and molded into shape by architects long lost to the slow march of time. Only their works remained now, silent, still, and sturdy as the day they were created.
These massive barriers were to be the man's first foe.
If he were to continue, if he were to survive, he must enter the sanctum beyond.
And The Hero did not know how....
Searching their cold, hard surface with his bare hands, the red haired hunk looked for a hidden crevice. A keyhole. A lever. Anything at all.
But his scouting came up empty. There had been no flaw in the gate's design, intentional or otherwise.
Next the man tried force. Heaving his muscular frame against the door with all his newfound might. His hulking body thrown against the metal slabs with such fury, that it seemed that either they would break, or he.
The gate's shuddered. Quaked. But in the end held strong.
As the man himself, became winded, and eventually had to rest.
Sitting down on the stair that led to the entryway, the naked hero pondered his situation.
The gates rose high above him, closed yet still to his passage. Taunting him with their resilience.
There must be a way through!
He had not journeyed this far, only to turn back now!
Not when he had just arrived! Not before he even got inside!
There had to be a way!
Picking up a nearby stone, the hulk hurled it at the huge barriers in frustration!
But instead of bouncing off its flat surface, or even shattering from the force, the rock passed through the metal unimpeded in the slightest, sailing beyond without a sound.
The man was on his feet in an instant, and at the doors, a second later! But just as before, they blocked the way forward, only seeming to be barriers to he himself alone!
Pounding his fists upon them, the man shouted to the heavens!
He must get inside! He knew he was running out of time!
And he still was no closer than before!
Sadly, The Hero leaned forward to rest his weight on the slabs that would not yield their secrets to him.
And then they did.
As the man's cock, and only the man's cock, disappeared into the thick cold metal of the doors.
Jumping back startled in fright, the man first checked his manhood for wounds. When the beauitful pale phallus appeared to have nary a scratch, the confused hero returned to the gates, another rock in hand! His own!
Inserting his growing erection into the rippling metal of the barriers, the man began to understand the task at hand.
This was to be a trial of manliness. A test of manhood!
And a test of manhood would need one in return.
The ginger stud felt the cold iron grip his meat in its magical embrace, as he began to thrust his hips, fucking the gate with his surging rod.
Heat rose inside.
Need.
The hero grunted as sweat beaded itself on his bare muscular skin, as he worked himself into a lustful frenzy.
The ancient metal gate was strong.
But his cock was stronger!
Pistoning his manmeat into and out of the barrier, he hammered the doors with all his might!
Every muscle in his handsome nude form worked in unison. Every tendon in coordination.
The ginger stud needed to display for the trial exactly how manly he truly was! And the hunk intended to do it with sublime!
The Hero felt his seed start its journey from his sack, causing his flesh to quiver as it flowed through him.
Breathing heavily, the handsome bloke moaned for release. The time to finish this task was now at hand!
Slowly his semen rose the length of his cock, as he held back his orgasm for as long as he could.
Until finally, The Hero exploded inside the gate! Unloading his manly spunk as he did!
The great metal doors shattered! Disintigrating into evaporating shards as they fell from place all around him.
Until the gate was gone entirely, leaving the panting hero standing alone, before the massive open entryway of The Temple.
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