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|It wasn't my idea. The guy I'm shacking up with, his name is Gerald, insisted I join his college athletic club so that I could become "a man". Hell, I knew I was all man -- 100% beef. But, Gerald heard I was hanging out with the wrong crowd, snorting coke at and hustling tricks. He heard right and I sure didn't want to give it up.
There just ain't much you and do when some guy's paying your rent. Gerald's worth about $20 million and I'd be a fool to blow this deal. I told him I'd join his crusty old club and make an effort at being more sociable-like, but to tell you the truth, I never understood the need to work out. I was all-male--if you judge manhood by the size of your dick. Shit, my prick was so big I was thinking of regitering it to vote. But I'd let my body go. I was so skinny, my bones jutted out of my skin and the only thing I could lift without straining myself was a couple of bills out of Gerald's wallet.
My first day at the Club, I went straight to the gym. Wasn't much of one. The space only had a Universal and some floor weights. I couldn't figure out how to use anything, so I sat down and lit a Marlboro. Some asshole told me to put it out.
I turned around to see what jerk had yelled at me and the only fucker there was this big stud who looked like Arnol Schwarzenegger, except this guy was good looking.
"You can't smoke in the gym, kid," he said approaching me.
"Who says?" I shot back.
The dude glared at me. I got a good look at his six foot three body. His long torso stretched from full muscular legs up to a huge chest that defied gravity. His "pecs" were so fat and round I swear they looked like Dolly Parton's tits. The thought crossed my mind that maybe they'd be hot to suck -- yeah, I wondered what this big stud would do if I was to clamp my mouth down like a suction cup on his nipple and lick his titties. I was getting a hard boner thinking about it.
"Who the hell are you, you stinkin' little punk," he spat out.
I told him who I was. "My name's Skip Towne, muscle-head. Wanna make something of it?"
"Skip Towne? Are you Gerald's friend?" he asked.
"That's right, mother fucker. So lay off."
"We don't talk like that here at the Club, Skip. And we don't allow smoking. Gerald has hired me to work out with you, although you look like you belong in a punk rock band, not in a gym.?
"Oh Goody!" I replied sarcastically. "I promise to work real hard so that I can look just like you." I eyed his huge frame and imagined what he would look like naked. "What's your name, anyhow?"
"David Brickston. My friends call me Brick."
"This as a brick," I added, eyeing his crotch.
"Depends on what you're referring to." He didn't look at me when he said this. I think he was straight. But I've never cared much for that distinction. A cock's a cock, just because the man attached to it's straight doesn't mean the cock doesn't like getting sucked.
"Okay Skip, let's get started. I'll give you some lessons. But let me tell you something. I don't like you. You're a pain in the ass and you're a selfish no-good sonofabitch. I'm only helping you 'cause it's paying my rent. Got that straight?"
"Sure, Brick. Real straight."
He worked me out but good. The bench press, the curls, the leg press and the cycle machine. Hell, there's nothing "universal" about that contraption. I felt sick to my stomach after the first "circuit". Brick let me quit early and we broke for a shower.
"Listen, kid, no one said it's gonna be easy. It takes time."
"I ain't got time. Besides I only like pain when I'm inflicting it."
Brick's eyes widened. I don't think he'd ever met anyone like me before.
In the shower, I checked out the rest of his body, the parts of him only his "girl" or his work-out buddies get to see: his firm ass cheeks, his low hanging balls, covered with a light brown peach fuzz. His cock was ample, meaning, I could choke on the bulbous head. What a way to go, I thought, choking to death on Brick's thick, fat cock. Hell, he'd probably love it if I did.
I reached over and grabbed his pecker.
It seemed like Time stood still. He broke the silence without moving away, his voice shaky.
"What the fuck you think you're doing?"
"I want to suck you dick. Is that such a crime?"
"You fucking faggot-punk. No one touches my dick like that."
He slammed his fist into my chest and I went crashing to the soapy floor. I looked up from the floor and I could see his cock was beginning to fill out. He liked hitting me.
"Get the fuck out of here before I break you in half."
"What about the workouts?"
"You show up. And no funny business. Hell, I need the money."
The next time I came to work out, Brick was very cold to me, gruffly pushing me toward the weights without saying a word. It was like that for almost six months. When we'd break, he'd run off. At first my muscles were as tight as a virgin's butthole, but soon, after tremendous effort, my body began to change. The lats filled out, the pecs peaked and the delts were delivered. Man, I was looking great. Thanks to Brick I was turning into one mean hunk.
One afternood, I'd finished working out in the gym and as usual Brick had left without even saying goodbye. Like most days, the place was deserted. I had the lockerroom all to myself. I went over to his locker and noticed he'd left his jockstrap on the floor. I took it, squeezing the soggy rag in my hand. It was still warm from his sweat. there was a mirror on the wall at the end of the aisle of lockers and I turned my newly primed body toward it. I was totally hard now, holding Brick's jock in one hand, my rigid prick in the other. I regarded myself in the mirror and jerked off.
I looked at my muscles -- at my pecs and delts. My abdomen looked like a loaf of egg bread -- shiny, glistening, layered with tight hard muscles. I was beginning to look like Brick. I lifted his jock strap up to my nose and sniffed it, taking in the smell -- a mixture of sweat, the musky odor of his balls and a bit of precum. hell, brick's dick was made to be sucked, I thought, rubbing my face into the burly scented jock strap. I fitted the pungent rag over my face, unable to see anything except the sparks shooting off behind my eyes. The more I inhaled Brick's man-small, licking and chewing on his jock strap, the harder my dick got. I was gonna blow my wad any second but I wanted to look at my tits before I shot my load. I removed the jock strap and stared into the mirror. I didn't see my pecs, I saw Brick's. He was standing right behind me, a mean scowl on his face and a dirty look in his eye. Time was frozen. My cock spewed out a torrent of milky cum that shot out and splattered the mirror. Goblets of the cum juice dripped down along the image of the two of us, staring at each other through the reflection in the mirror.
"Get out of here," he said in a hoarse voice. You're psycho!" He grabbed his jockstrap out of my hand and took a swipe at me. "You white trash, queer!" he yelled at me, a steely cold look in his eye.
I wasn't about to take this shit sitting down. No one slugs Skip Towne without a fight. I stood up, my knees still a bit shaky after my orgasm, swinging at Brick. He dodged it and returned with a left right above my jaw. It sounded like he broke something, but my tongue quickly surveyed the damage, luckily finding none. I throw my arms around his neck and pulled him to the floor. If we were going to fight, at least let's fight like men. Wrestling him, I hooked my left elbow under his neck and pulled his head back. He quickly rolled out from under, grabbing me from behind. Since I was nude and still sweaty from my workout, Brick had trouble keeping his hands on my. I had no problem keeping mine on his. At last, I was touching his dynamite body, the hard, firm flesh of my idol. I reached for his pecs and squeezed them between my fingers. With a strength I didn't even know I had, I held him down on the lockerroom floor, pinning him against his will. He fought back with everything he had, but he coundn't budge. I leaned over and kissed his lips, making sure my tongue went in real deep.
He growled and spat on my face. "You sick fuckin' faggot, get off me!" he cried out.
"What's the matter, Brick. Aren't you strong enough to escape?" He wrestled with all his strength but he couldn't undo my expert lock. "I guess you made me stronger that you, Brick," I said, laughing at the situation. Who would have thought, just six months ago I was a scrawny kid without any power and now I'm on top of Brick holding him down as he strained to escape. I got another hard-on from laughing. I pressed it against his chest.
"Feel that," I whispered maniacally, "that's a man-sized dick, mother-fucker, and it's getting hard for you!"
"Fuck off, jerk. Let me go. I can't stand you--you make me sick. You can't made me do anything."
"You ever suck a cock before?" I asked positioning my dick right at the entrance to his mouth. His eyes were fumeng with fury.
"Never! and I never will! I'll bite it off first."
"We'll see about that, buddy," I replied.
Despite my superior strength, I was not sure I could keep him down forever, so I looked around until I spotted something that could help me. I found it dangling between his legs--his belt. I pulled his belt strap out, and wrapped one side of it around his left arm. It was a tough struggle but gradually I got him to drop his arm long enough for me to wind it around his other wrist. In this position, out faces were so close that I could smell his saliva. It was the spicy scent of fear.
I looped the belt along both wrists and pulled them taut against his lower back as he cried out for me to let him go. But his pleas meant nothing to me. I had one thought and one thought only. Total seduction. I wanted to lick and violate every nook and cranny of this stud. To go where no man had gone before. This dude was about to get laid.
I pulled him to the weight room, throwing him down on the floor and locked the door. He started to rant and rave that he was going to kill me. He kicked up with his legs. I had to do something about them and came up with a perfect solution. All I had to do was unbuckle his pants and pull them down to his ankles, locking his knees.
I stepped toward him, my dick sticking out from my body like a sword. I jumped on top of him and we wrestled again. I grabbed a rag from the floor and shoved it in his mouth, he was making far too much noise, it was distracting.
I reached for the zipper of his jeans and started to pull it down. He kicked and fought back, but again I was far too strong. Slowly, I slipped the pants from his hips, exposing the hard, hot flesh of his skin. He was wearing a pair of Jockey briefs, which did little to thwart the odor of his manhood. I shucked the pants down to his ankles running my hands along his fuzzy, muscular thighs. He groaned and slithered on the mat. I cupped my hand on his crotch and squeezed his prick bulge. He was fighting a hard-on, so I decided to make it even harder. I leaned over and pressed my lips against the steamy fabric, blowing hot air into his pubic hair. His cock ballooned out, firming up. I stroked his balls and prick with less that a gentle hand. Impatient, I tore off the briefs, exposing his semi-hard dick. I couldn't wait and dove into the thick of it sucking his ripe pud into my hot, salivating mouth caused Brick to moan and buck up and down.
Without releasing his stiff rod from my throat, I climbed on top of him a la sixty-nine, straddling his chest with my knees. In this position, I could completely inhale his prick, sucking it down to the balls, shoving my forehead against the warm hole of his butt. I'd never tasted such a flavorful cock; it was like Baskin and Robbins down there!
He seemed to be getting off on my sucking him, 'cause he started to move his ass up and down in synch with my head. The time had come to remove the gag from his mouth--how else could I get him to eat out my ass!
Once the rag was released, he started cussing me out but real good. I shut him up again by sitting on his face.
"Eat my asshole, waybo!"
He screamed a garbled "No!" and tried to bite me. But there was nothing for him to sink his teeth into down there. I rubbed my asshole up and down along his stubbly upper lip, making sure his nose got a good whiff of my balls and ass His face was built for rimming, his prominent nose a perfect butt plug. I rammed my head back down around his pud. He groaned and instinctively licked my crack. He was getting into this! His tongue twirled around the lips of my male pussy, darting in and out of the steaming crevasse.
I scooped up his balls with one hand and pulled up his sack, exposing his pink rim-hole. I shoved my probing tongue into the heated snatch. As if I were teaching him, he copied my every move.
I don't think he'd ever been rimmed before because poor Brick was screaming and hollering like a fifteen year old girl at a Michael Jackson concert.
Next, I fingered his man-hole, flicking the lips, feeling under for his prostate gland--his male clit. Now Brick was putty in my hand. I shoved my thumb up to the hilt while engorging his cock in my mouth. Brick begon rimming me like a contestant in a corn-on-the-cob competition.
I stuck a couple more fingers in his trap, knowing this would bring him to his first orgasm. I scarfed down his tool and awaited the inevitable rush of white cream I'd come to relish. He retorted with a torrent of jism blasting into the furnace of my throat. Wave upon wave of the milky liquid coated my tongue, filling me up.
I didn't give him time to think about what we'd just done. I jumped off him and dragged his heaving body over to the bench press, forcing him to lie down on it. I lifted his arms up and hooded them to the top of the Universal.
He was screaming and hollering again, so I had no choice but to shove my fat cock into the gaping angry hole of his mouth.
"I told you to shut up, loverboy."
He gagged and spumed but the look in his eye told me everything I wanted to know. He was scared--not scared of what I was making him do, but scared by what he wanted me to do
I bent down and pulled off his pants. By now he wasn't kicking me anymore. I lifted his legs and hooked them up to the weights, so that it looked like he was in traction. Now it was time to have some fun! I shoved my dick back in his mouth.
I spat into my fist and brought the thick saliva down to his male box, spreading it like vaseline along his crack. The more I stroked his hot hole, the deeper he sucked in my cock. He was doing a good job of lubing my tube and I was ready to put it into action.
Poking the tip of my pecker at his succulent asshole, I growled out orders, forcing Brick to spread his legs open farther to accommodate my manhood. Yeah, he was going to feel my dick in his ass and I hoped it hurt. Oooh, man, if felt like my cock was getting put through a vise when I started shoving it through his tight-lipped crack. He was fighting my entry, but like I said, I never take no for an answer. I pushed his knees up toward his chest, causing him to breathe out unexpectedly. Just at that vulnerable moment, I rammed the full extent of my shaft deep into his box, feeling his ass muscles straining to expel the intruding hose.
"Stop! It hurts! Don't fuck me! Please!" he cried out in shame and horror.
That one word, "please" was the best aphrodisiac I had ever encountered! Please! Coming from Brick! I loved it and proceeded to pork him deeper with my probing rod. I was fucking him real good, real mean, real expert-like. I would stuff my pickle right to the base where my balls meet the shaft and then I'd pull it all the way out to the tip of my corona so that his little buthole thought it was going to be free of me, but then, at the right moment, pound my pud back in there, whooping and hollering with a mindless glee, feeling his whole body shudder around my pulsating aching hard-on.
My dick was beginning to work like a major quaalude in suppository form. Brick let go and relaxed his whole being around my cock, slipping onto me like a hot leather glove. Oooh, he was enjoying this ram-job. His eyes were rolling back toward the inside of his brain, spinning in their sockets from the delirious fever I was perpetrating in his male pussy. he was getting so hot and bothered that his fat cock looked like a water balloon that was about to burst. I reached over and squeezed the turgid tool.
"Your cock is beautiful, Brick!" I said without thinking. I didn't want to start complimenting the dude. Hell, that was too cutesy for me. But I meant what I said. In fact, come to think of it, Brick was pretty damn beautiful too! I looked down deep into his eyes.
"Your prick ain't too bad, either," Brick answered, breathing heavily. "I've never felt this way before. Is this what it means to be fucked! To feel like you're falling apart at the seams and becoming whole at the same time!"
Such poetical words from a muscleman like Brick. But I had that effect on guys. Guess it's because I'm a master cocksmith, probing my pecker so deep within them that I stimulate their soul, or somethingl. God, I was about to lose my load in him.
"Doesn't it hurt, Brick?" I asked revolving my hips against his butt.
He threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning deeply. "No..." Then he smiled and said, "I think we've found a new exercise for our workout sessions. Funny, after all this time I never thought I could learn from you."
"Just don't tell Gerald, he'll stop paying for the lessons."
Brick chuckled underneath me.
"Sure won't. I don't want to stop meeting like this."
We both burst out laughing. I reached down and pulled out my dick.
"Don't stop! Why'd you stop!" Brick shouted at me.
I didn't respond. My cock provided the best answer.
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