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Beef Club, The
|Since a friend from out of town was here for a week's visit, I got the latest
issue of the free bar guide to see if there was any place new and interesting
to go to. There was a listing for a bar I had never heard of: "The Beef
Club." The blurb read, "Where big men and their admirers mingle and meet."
It sounded good to me, and when I mentioned it to my friend as a destination
in a Saturday night of barhopping in New York, he thought it sounded
Late that night we walked down 10th Avenue in Chelsea to what looked like a former warehouse. The thudding of music could be heard from the sidewalk, where a cluster of men in tee shirts a size too small stood around talking. "Looks good already, Michael," I said as we entered.
The room was virtually bisected by a large wraparound bar. There were some cigarette and pinball machines in one corner, and luckily none of the distracting videos hanging from the ceiling. Anyway, it would be hard to be distracted from the guys who were crowding the bar. The Beef Club was an apt name for this place! Everywhere we looked there were muscular guys in tank tops, ripped tee shirts, or with no shirts at all.
"Bob, let me buy you a beer. Thanks for bringing me to this place," Michael said. We went up to the bar, and the bartender came over. He was thickly muscled and wearing a tank top with spaghetti straps. His pecs stuck out of the skimpy shirt and his left nipple was pierced. When he got the two beers Michael ordered he opened them up and his right bicep bulged quickly as he popped the top. I noticed that Michael left a pretty big tip.
We found a spot to watch the parade of musclemen go by. There were plenty of "normally sized" guys like us, and I noticed that quite a few of the big men were talking with the smaller guys. A huge guy 6'4" tall and 3' wide walked past and nodded at us with a smile as he saw us staring at him. The veins on his arms stood out like ropes as they swung by. He was wearing a tee shirt with the front ripped open like some of the bodybuilders wear in the magazines. The rip allowed us to get a good view of his hairy chest. He was about 35 years old, and he had dark black hair and a thick, neatly trimmed beard. He continued patrolling to the other side of the bar, and we watched his bubble butt as he turned the corner, out of sight.
"I'll have to become a regular here," I said. "Although I think I'll die of frustration."
"These guys are unbelievable," Michael said. "I never thought I'd see so many giant hunks outside of a bodybuilding competition."
We started talking about what we had seen that day, and what else he wanted to do on the rest of his visit to New York. I suggested a day trip to Fire Island one day as a counterpoint to the museums and ethnic neighborhoods of the city. While we talked, we kept looking at the musclemen around us, occassionally commenting on a particularly sexy or huge one.
"I have to go to the bathroom," Michael said. "I'll be right back."
While he was gone I leaned against the wall. Soon the large bearded guy came into view again. He spotted me, and started heading my way. He stopped in front of me, and my heart was beating much faster than normally.
"Hi, my name's Ron," he said.
"I'm Bob," I answered.
"Your friend hasn't left, has he? I wanted to meet both of you."
"No, he just went to the john. He's from out of town and I've been showing him the sights." Then I looked Ron straight in the eye as he towered over me and I said, "And I know that you're one sight that he'll be especially interested in examining more closely."
Ron laughed, and just then my friend came up with two more beers. He stopped a little before getting to us, not wanting to intrude, but I said, "Michael, come on over. This is Ron. I was just telling him that you're visiting from the West Coast."
"Hey, Michael," Ron said.
"Hi, Ron," he answered. Michael absently thrust one of the beers toward me, unable to take his eyes off of Ron's burly torso.
"So, have you liked New York so far?" Ron asked.
"I'm liking it better and better every minute," Michael replied, and Ron and I both smiled.
"I haven't heard of this place before," I said. "Is it new?"
"About a month or two. It's a good way for bodybuilders to meet their admirers, don't you think? I take it you *are* admirers?" Ron said.
"Yeah!" we answered in unison. "And you certainly are a bodybuilder," I added.
"Yup, I've been pumping iron since I was 16. It took a lot of hard work to get these arms up to 24", but it's been worth it," Ron said. He flexed one mighty arm at his side and the muscles jumped into a mountain of mass. "Go ahead, don't be shy guys. See what it feels like."
We each put a hand on the huge arm, our two hands barely spanning the bulk of it. The bicep was harder than I thought possible. Michael sucked in a hiss of breath.
"I thought you'd like that," Ron said. "I only live a few blocks away. Why don't you both come on over and I'll let you feel a little more."
"Great," I said. We put our beers down and followed Ron out the door. Soon we were walking up the hallway stairs and entering his apartment. It was a one bedroom apartment. In one corner of the living room was a weightlifting bench, some barbells, and some dumbbells.
Ron closed the door and then turned to face us. Then with a smile on his face he brought his arms up and hit a double biceps pose. The peaks on his arms stretched the thin material of his shirt so that it was like a second skin. Then he brought his arms down and crunched into a most muscular pose. The rip in his tee shirt widened with a tearing sound, his brawny chest rending it further. Now it was my turn to take in a quick breath.
"I knew you wanted to see my muscles when I saw you watching me in the bar. You want a show?"
"Yeah, big man," Michael said. "Show us those giant muscles."
Ron grabbed the front of his shirt and ripped it clear down to the bottom, exposing rippling abdominal muscles. He unbuttoned his pants and stepped out of them, just a tiny pair of bikini briefs remaining. We could see that a pair of large balls hung below a thick cock. He thrust one leg in front of himself and flexed the thick quads. They must have been denser than DeMayo's thighs! He ground out pose after pose as we undid each other's jeans and pulled our own tee shirts over our heads quickly, not wanting to miss one second. A side triceps pose caused his horseshoe to appear. He moved smoothly into a side chest pose. The hairy chest jutted out over his hard six pack. The nipples were almost lost in the thick black swirls of hair that covered the mounds of his pecs. Turning his back to us, he did a lat spread, followed by a display of his Christmas tree. By now we were both in just our underwear, our cocks pushing the material forward. My left hand was groping Michael's ass as he played with one of my nipples with his right hand.
"Want to feel this fucking big muscle?" Ron growled.
"Please let us," I said. "Yeah, we've got to know what it all feels like," Michael added.
"Then get over here and know what a muscleman feels like!" Ron commanded.
We rushed over and quickly began feeling every inch of the giant man's hard body. I rubbed my face in the deep hairy pecs, moving eventually to one of his armpits where I licked him. Meanwhile, Michael's mouth was over one of Ron's nipples, teasing it with his tongue.
"Should I show you how strong this muscle makes me?" Ron asked.
"YEAH!" we answered together.
"How strong do you think?" he asked. "What do you think these arms can do?" and again he flexed his gargantuan biceps.
"80 pound dumbbell curls?" I guessed.
"LOOK AT THESE ARMS!" Ron shouted. "LOOK AT THEIR SIZE! I can do reps with 150 pounds in each hand. WATCH ME!!!" With that he went over to the weights and grabbed two huge dumbbells. He started curling them, heaving the heavy poundage with no sign of stress. Michael started counting out the reps, "11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20!" The excitement in his voice was apparent. Never had either of us seen anything remotely like this display of animal power.
Ron dropped the weights and grabbed two weightlifting belts. He thrust them at us and said, "Here. Put these on."
"We're going to lift?" I asked, puzzled.
"No, not you. Put 'em on."
We did as we were told and then Ron came up to us. He took hold of each belt with a hand, and lifted us both up at the same time! He hoisted us up overhead, and then started pressing us up and down. He was using us to do shoulder presses with! He looked up with an almost maniacal look on his face as he saw the wonder in our faces.
"Bet you didn't think you'd get treated to this, did you?" he said. "Two guys tossed around by a big muscle stud. Olympian power on display for your worship."
"No, we never thought that we'd be this lucky," I said. "Keep showing us your incredible power," Michael added.
"Yeah, I'll show you power," Ron said as he put us down. He flexed his arms and said, "Climb on."
We each grabbed onto one mountainous bicep and he stood there flexing his arms. Each time his forearms came toward his shoulders we bobbed up in the air. Keeping his arms flexed, he started walking into the bedroom, turning sideways so that he could get through the door. He threw us down on the bed so that we were on our backs. Then he lowered his huge bulk over us, one massive arm corraling us on each side. His massive pecs descended onto us, so that our beards were rubbing around the hard hairy muscles. By now all our cocks were throbbing, and Ron's was enormous. It was easily a foot long, and the head was big as a child's fist. Pre-cum was leaking from all our dicks.
Ron worked himself forward, so that his crotch was now hovering in front of our faces. We each instinctively took one side of his scrotum in our mouths, each trying to suck in one of his lemon-sized balls.
"Yeah, suck on this musclestud's cock," Ron said. I took the swollen head into my mouth, while Michael licked all along the vein-encrusted shaft of the monster tool. All the time we were running our hands wherever we could reach on Ron's godlike body. I relunctantly let go of the dick head so that my friend could have a turn at it, tasting the delicious pre-cum as it flowed out.
Ron moaned and moved himself, then us, so that we were all sitting on the bed. He grabbed my cock in his right hand and Michael's in his left and started jerking us off. The thought of those powerful hands working on our dicks had us both panting and groaning. We each reached over to Ron's horsecock and started yanking it hard. Ron's chest was heaving now, the hairy pecs twitching and flexing as he pulled on our pricks.
"Big man put on quite a show for you tonight," he said. "Fucking muscle to adore and strength to worship!"
"Yeah, incredible power and muscle!" I said. Then I started shooting my load into the air. Jets of cum sprayed over the three of us as animal-like growls escaped from my throat.
"Herculean tower of muscle," Michael shouted and started cumming also. Gobs of white semen shot out of Michael's cock as Ron kept up his wild jerking.
"Yeah, fucking musclestud," Ron snarled, and then I felt his firehose dick start to spasm as he shot his wad. Thick cum erupted from his cock, shooting onto his chest, my face, Michael's beard and shoulders. When he was done he flexed his arms for us to feel, lick, and worship.
Eventually we cleaned ourselves off and Ron pulled the covers of the bed down. "Now imagine waking up with this big muscular body next to you," he said. So I knew that we were staying the night and would have at least one more round with this musclegod. Ron lay down between us. We nestled our heads on his pecs, in the space between his chest and arms, which he held us loosely with.
"Too bad, you're only here for a week," Ron said. "You'll have to come back and visit Bob and me again real soon." And with that he turned out the light.
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