Muscle Men, page 9
I waited anxiously for Travis to pull those briefs down. It was a wonder my tongue wasn’t hanging out of my mouth like a bloodhound’s, drooling all over the floor. My cock was certainly drooling, the front of my shorts darkening as precum soaked through the fabric. It drooled even more when Travis finally pushed those white briefs down his trunklike thighs and his stiff dick sprang free.
“You’re well built all over,” I chuckled, wrapping a hand around his thick, cut cock. “I don’t know where to start, the front or the back.”
Travis said, “I’ll start for you.” He’d barely completed the sentence before he was on his knees and my shorts were around my ankles.
“Wait, I…” A rush of pleasure stifled my objection as Travis swallowed my throbbing cock whole.
Travis may have been in the closet, but he sure as hell wasn’t a virgin. He sucked dick like a pro. His tongue delicately circled the corona of my cock and then he took the entire shaft down his throat until his lips were at the base. Just when I thought I might be getting close to coming he pulled his mouth away and went to work on my balls, cupping them in his big hands and bringing the engorged spheres to his lips to lick and suck.
“You’ve got a great cock,” Travis whispered, rubbing it against his cheek. He looked up at me. “You’ve got a great everything.”
Travis closed his mouth over my cock once again and I was immediately dizzy from pleasure. I steadied myself on his massive shoulders while he gulped my dick down his throat. I was getting so close, but when I told him so Travis didn’t ease up; he sucked my cock harder.
I came suddenly and quickly. I closed my eyes and my body jerked as my cock exploded in Travis’s mouth. When I opened my eyes I saw Travis once again rubbing my dick across his face, this time leaving a sticky-slimy trail of his spit and my jism. He squeezed the base of the shaft and a heavy drop of cum oozed out the piss-slit. He snapped it up with his tongue like a frog catching a fly. Travis smiled up at me as he swallowed that bead of jizz.
I shook my head disbelievingly. “You’re incredible.”
“And you’re hot,” he said, standing. “You make up your mind, front or back?”
His cock was pulsing and a long, syrupy strand of precum hung from the head. Much as I wanted that ass I had to get a taste of that monster between his legs.
I guided him over to the bed and told him to sit. Kneeling on the floor between his legs I gripped his hard cock and licked the head, drinking up the mildly salty juice that seeped out of it. My tongue moved along the ridge beneath his plump cockhead and then traced the turgid veins of the shaft until I reached his balls.
Travis sucked in his breath. “Oh, yes,” he sighed, placing a hand on my head, running it over my bristly buzz cut.
I took his cock all the way down my gullet. Travis wasn’t a groaner but he was breathing hard and sometimes a moan would escape—a soft, whispery moan that was kind of cute coming from such a large man.
Then the moans got louder. Travis put both hands on my head, holding me still while he fucked my mouth. He began to make sounds that were supposed to be words but came out as hard, gasping breaths. Words weren’t necessary. I knew what he was trying to tell me and readied for his load.
His body shuddered and he came in my mouth. It was thick, tangy and plentiful. I pulled my mouth away from his cock in time to get a splat in the face and then another. I put his dick back in my mouth and sucked out the last drops.
Travis helped me to my feet then pulled me to the bed. I climbed on top of him and he drew an index finger across my chin, wiping off a gooey dollop of jizz that hung in my beard. I guided that finger between my lips, smiling as I sucked it clean.
And then we kissed for a very long time.
When our mouths finally separated, Travis asked, “Ready for the back now?”
“I’m not sure I’m done with the front yet,” I said, moving down to bite one of his pert nipples. I let a hand glide down his rigid torso. “How long have you been working out to get a body like this?”
“Don’t work out so much as just work,” he said. “But I’ve got some weights at home. Lift ’bout four times a week. Been liftin’ since high school, when I thought I’d be playing for the Cowboys.”
I nodded. There were other questions I could’ve asked, like why did he stay in this godforsaken town. Instead my hand continued south until I reached his dick. He still had a semi. “This is strictly genetic,” I said, gently stroking his cock.
I quickly kissed my way down to his cock, giving that meaty tool the wettest, sloppiest kiss of all. Travis inhaled sharply as I took his sensitive prick into my mouth. This time I took it slow, wanting to savor every inch—the taste, the feel of that cock as it slid down my throat. It quickly swelled in my mouth, ready for round two.
My mouth moved to his balls, resting heavily between his open legs in their velvety sac. Travis let out one of his soft moans as I prodded his golf ball–sized nuts. He spread his legs wider as my mouth traveled deeper between them, my tongue tickling the outer edges of his asshole.
Travis drew his legs up slightly, put his hands on top of my head and pushed me into that musky divide. My tongue found his sphincter and prodded the smooth ass-lips. He moaned and his asshole pulsed. When I pushed past the taut ring and into his chute Travis cried out loudly enough to be heard in the neighboring rooms if they were occupied.
His outburst was very satisfying and I felt like I had won something. I had, I supposed: his ass. But I wasn’t ready to declare victory yet—not until I had him crying like a baby.
Sitting up on my haunches I ordered Travis to roll over and get his ass up in the air. He happily complied. I moved to the foot of the bed and got behind the closeted muscleman. Just looking at his naked butt took my breath away: globes of solid muscle, rising into the air like two pale hills. A few fine golden hairs curled out of the cleft of his buttocks, beckoning me to hunt the treasure buried within. I brought my hands down onto Travis’s buttcheeks and ordered him to spread his legs wider until that treasure was exposed. His asshole was more like a pair of light pink, primly drawn lips than a rosebud, even when it knotted into a pucker.
I wet one of my thumbs in my mouth and rubbed it across those pink asslips. Travis’s sphincter throbbed at my touch. Using both my thumbs I pried those pink lips apart, revealing a darker pink inside. I gently stroked the opening, smiling as Travis let out another one of his breathy moans. His hips gyrated, grooving to my touch.
That’s when I dived in, plunging my face between those hills of muscle, my tongue spearing his asshole.
There were no soft moans this time. A shriek burst from Travis’s lips before he buried his face in a pillow to muffle his cries. I pushed my tongue deeper into his chute, enjoying the fight with his quivering asslips as they instinctively tried to shut me out. Travis was enjoying the fight, too, grinding his ass into my face as I tongue-fucked his hole, groaning into the pillow and seizing the Technicolor bedspread in his fists when the pleasure got too unbearable.
I tore into his ass with greater ferocity, licking and gnawing at that throbbing hole and then driving my tongue into it as far as it could go. I dragged my entire face up and down that open trench, tickling his skin with the coarse hairs of my beard. Moving down, I slurped on his balls, sucking them into my mouth and tugging on them just enough to make Travis jump. I reached between his legs and gripped his cock. It was like iron. I pulled it back toward my lips, swabbing away the silvery string of precum that hung from the piss-slit like tinsel on a Christmas tree.
Travis raised his head off the pillow. “Fuck me,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“You really want me to?” I asked playfully, flicking my tongue against his pulsing asshole.
“Fuck me,” he repeated.
I didn’t make him say it a third time.
Condoms and a bottle of lube were already set out on the night table in anticipation of this moment. I grabbed a rubber and the lube and hastily prepared myself. Then I prepared Travis, squeezing a generous amount of lubricant directly onto his winking hole. I slid two fingers into that hole. His sphincter gripped my fingers below the second knuckle. I worked a third finger inside him, slowly stretching his ass-ring. My cock vibrated, anxious to follow my fingers into that hot chute.
Kneeling behind Travis, I gripped the base of my dick and pushed it against his pursed asslips. They resisted, so I pushed harder until those lips grudgingly parted. Travis let out a sharp, whimpering cry as my cock burrowed deeper into his hole. When my cock was buried in his gut all the way to the hilt, we both let out satisfied groans.
I began to pump his ass in deliberate thrusts. Each time I sank my cock into his hole I got a jolt that sizzled down the length of my rod and hummed throughout my body. I rammed him harder, sending his body forward when my pelvis hit the back of his ass.
Travis buried his face in the pillow once again, muffling his ecstatic cries. He rolled his hips, working his body in time to my driving cock. I leaned over him, the pornographic thoughts swirling in my head tumbling out of my mouth in partial grunts. Then I rose up off my knees so I was crouched over his ass in a leapfrog position. Resting my torso against his broad back, I continued fucking him, my ass bobbing wildly as I pulled my cock almost entirely out of his hole and plunged it back inside.
Travis and I quickly became a sweaty, slobbering, writhing mass. Anyone passing by the motel room door would swear a grizzly and gorilla were wrestling inside. That assumption wouldn’t be too far from the truth. We were animals acting on raw, primal desire. It was the best kind of sex, when you let go of all social pretenses and let your cock take control.
We fell into a spoon position. Travis’s dick was twitching like a divining rod at Niagara Falls. It was almost as wet as Niagara; there was a sizable wet spot on the bedspread from where his cock had been drooling its juices. I reached around Travis’s waist and closed a fist around that red, swollen rod. It throbbed in my hand as I stroked it and Travis trembled against me. This big, brawny hunk was now a blubbering heap of jelly. I’d be lying if I said this didn’t excite me: it was David conquering Goliath, not with a stone but with his cock.
The bed rocked like a raft on a stormy sea as Travis thrashed about, his body jerking as I jerked on his dick. He was sucking in a mouthful of air when he came, his breath catching in his throat, his body stiffening as he shot his load. It was another copious wad splattering everything—his abs, my hand, the ugly bedspread. I cried out—“Oh, yeah!”—cheering him on as his cock spat out the last gooey squirts of cum. I kept stroking his dick until he couldn’t stand it any longer and swatted my hand away.
I could hardly stand it myself. My body was buzzing with erotic pleasure, a pleasure that increased each time I shoved my cock into the warm depths of Travis’s ass. I seized one of his pecs, digging my fingers into the hard muscle and holding on as I jackhammered his hole on my final sprint toward orgasm. I didn’t want to let him go and in the seconds before I came I plotted to extend our time together—I’d call my mother in Phoenix and say I had car trouble and would be delayed a couple days, days that would be spent in a shabby motel room in West Texas. I then began to plan what Travis and I would be doing in our motel room. First I’d kiss every one of those taut muscles of his, but the muscles I’d kiss the most would be his glutes—and his sphincter muscle. I wouldn’t stop eating his ass until he blew his load. Then I’d say, “How ’bout a protein shake,” and shoot my load down his throat and he’d look up at me and smile as he licked it off his lips. And then…
And then I came.
I didn’t call my mother and Travis didn’t spend the next couple of days with me. He spent the night though. I awoke with a raging hard-on pressed against his ass. He moaned as I rubbed it between his buttcheeks. I was ready to begin the day with another hot fuck, but then Travis asked what time it was. He jumped out of bed the moment he learned it was almost eight o’clock.
“I gotta be somewhere at nine,” he said, dashing into the bathroom to pee.
Of course he did.
Thirty minutes later we were both stepping out of the room into the dry heat of the morning, exchanging awkward goodbyes before making our respective getaways. We weren’t quick enough. An old pickup truck speeding down the highway came to a stop so abruptly it almost skidded off the road. When it recovered, it made a right and came tearing across the motel’s parking lot, heading right for us. I didn’t have to see inside the cab to know who our visitors were.
“I thought we runned you outta town yesterday, faggot,” Dale called out from the driver’s side window when his truck jerked to a stop. His doughy friend giggled idiotically. “Guess ya’ didn’t figure on Travis catching you.”
“Guess I didn’t,” I said.
“Go on, Travis. Make sure this cocksucker learns good and well never to bring his perverted ass back here.”
Travis looked at his coworkers and then at me. His eyes were beseeching as his hands slowly curled into fists. He was going to have to hit me again.
I stepped closer to him. “You have muscles,” I said, “but no strength.”
I dropped my duffle bag, cupped Travis’s face in my hands and kissed him hard and with plenty of tongue.
Travis’s fists melted and instinctively went to my waist. Realizing his error he pulled away as if bitten by a snake. But it was too late. Dale and his fellow shithead were too stunned to speak. Travis looked to be on the verge of tears. His brawny body seemed to deflate before my very eyes.
I fished the room key out of my pocket. “Travis, be a dear and check out for me, will you?” I tossed him the key; he didn’t try to catch it.
Dale and his doughy buddy started to get out the truck, but I was in my car before they could take their hate out on me. Don’t worry, assholes, I thought as I gunned out of the parking lot, this cocksucker’s learned never to bring his perverted ass back to Brute.
I just hoped Travis had learned why he needed to get his perverted his ass out of it.
FIGHT CUB
Geoffrey Knight
I wasn’t looking for a fight. And yet there I was, sitting in the physics end-of-year exam with a cut on my chin and a wrist so swollen that my writing hand had to drag my pen across the page like a slave with a ball and chain strapped to his ankle. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t complaining at all, because every time I stole a glance across the examination hall at Mason my cock stirred and pulsed with such pleasure I refused to stifle it. Heck, I even sat back in my chair, a different person, and let my dick harden with the memories of the night before.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
“Get him!”
This I heard over the rattling pipes of the hot water system in the dilapidated dorm in which I lived. I’m not a member of a fraternity—I’m just not frat material. Sure, I try to look after myself, I have a pair of dumbbells stashed under my bed and when nobody’s looking I do curls and dips and try not to pop a shoulder, and to be honest with myself—which doesn’t happen all that often—my body’s not that bad. Transformation from weedy geek to lean, well-proportioned lad is definitely within my reach. I look okay in the mirror these days—if I take off the glasses and tousle the hair and just relax. But that’s a me the rest of the world simply never sees. Because I can’t do exactly that—I can’t just relax! I’m always on my guard: woolen vests as a shield of armor no matter what the temperature outside; glasses for a helmet; straight, flat hair because I simply wouldn’t dare to do anything attention getting.
“Get him!”
The hot water was spluttering and pissing in bursts over me as the pipes clanged and shuddered. I was the only guy in the showers at the time. I showered late, when everyone else was at a party or having fun at the college bar or fucking someone in their room. It was supposed to be the safe time to take a shower, alone, in private, with nobody to size you up and put you down.
But suddenly I heard the cry of their voices.
I opened my eyes to the sting of soap and saw two buff guys in ALPHA GAMMA FUCKYA T-shirts practically sliding across the moldy tiles toward me at top speed. In their hands they held a pillowcase, like park rangers about to bag a snake. Only my snake didn’t lash and hiss and spit. It simply recoiled in terror, stunned into shrinkage, before an elbow connected with my chin (the now gashed chin). Suddenly the white tiles all around turned into a star-filled night sky, then swirled into complete darkness.
Physics is different from quantum physics.
Physics deals with the things we can see: an aircraft made out of heavy metals and packed with human souls flying through the sky; two cars bouncing off each other when they collide while their occupants sail through the windscreen still full of momentum; an apple falling on Isaac Newton’s head while he sits under a tree reading Shakespeare.
Quantum physics, on the other hand, deals with the things we can’t see: what are atoms and protons and electrons and molecules and particles truly capable of? Metamorphosis? The folding of space? Time travel? What happens when you sleep? What happens when you’re elbowed in the chin by a quarterback with a buzz cut and arms bigger than my thighs? Where do we really go—what alternate universes do we traverse—as minutes and hours slip by, lose their meaning, and before you know it, you’re opening your eyes and your thumping head registers the fine cotton weave of the inside of a pillowcase? And the smell of manly sweat. And the sound of jocks laughing at you.
Then suddenly—
—the pillow case is whisked off your head and your flat, wet, honey hair flips and flops in the air, wanting to free itself and simply relax. But your chin is bleeding and your head is throbbing and your sight is blurred and all you can see are twenty ALPHA GAMMA FUCKYA T-shirts in front of you, all covering thick, muscled college torsos, all begging to be torn to shreds and flung to the ground.
