We'll wait for you OP, your stuff is worth it.
Quick question, do you have yourself direct experience with muscle gods/bodybuilders or all your descriptions and such come creative writing?
Custom Fit (MM story: college, muscle, bulge, size difference, and growth)
- Thread starter Humblebrag88
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Quick question, do you have yourself direct experience with muscle gods/bodybuilders or all your descriptions and such come creative writing?
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I've been lucky and had the opportunity to worship some true giants. I also lift myself, admittedly with mid results.
I do have direct experience curling and squatting dusty weights in a semi-finished basement.
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With gratitude for your patience, here's the next chapter.
Chapter 15
We spent the rest of the night in the pool and hot tub. Mikey modeling and trying out his new swimsuit with some surprisingly fast laps. You’d think with all that lean mass he’d be too heavy to swim fast, but with a strong kick off and his powerful limbs, he moves through the water like a knife.
After he shows off a bit and gets in a good workout, we cuddle up in the hottub. It might be the heat from the water, but everytime he kisses me my head swims. I’m lost in the moment, feeling his hands run rampant across my body when he gasps and stops.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” I say, ducking into his arms in case security is finally here to arrest us.
“What time is it?” Mikey asks urgently, head craning looking for a clock on the wall. I spot it over his shoulder.
“Yeesh, after 10. We’ve been here for hours.” I reply, relieved we aren’t busted.
“Shit. Too late now.” Mikey says, shaking his head. “I had this entire evening planned for our first date! We were going to walk along the river and then go to this Mugler exhibit downtown, a collection of runway looks from some year to some other year!” he laments, clearly excited, if a bit fuzzy on details. “I ran it by Jack and his jaw dropped so I figured it was something you’d love.”
He’s right. Mugler is major. “When does the exhibit end?”
“I think it runs through Thanksgiving, so we’ve got some time.” Mikey says, bringing me in for a kiss. “Just to be clear, you do want to go on more dates, right? Are we considering this one a success?”
“Yep! Gorging ourselves on Vietnamese food followed by a rousing round of trespassing and the misuse of a therapy pool? Best first date ever.” I reply matter of factly.
“I don’t know about misuse, that felt pretty therapeutic to me.” Mikey growls into my neck and pulls me close against his ample pecs and cobblestone abs.
It basically takes no effort for him to lift me normally, in the water it feels like I’m weightless. His massive hands wrap around my waist and cup my ass and my body surges through the water in whatever direction his whims lead.
“Speaking of Thanksgiving,” I mutter into his collarbone post kiss, “Are you going home for the fall break? See your mom?”
Mikey gets quiet, looks down into the swirling water and shakes his head.
“I don’t think it’s in the cards. Honestly, we never really celebrated that one after dad died. I don’t think it even dawned on her that I might come home next month. She’s going on a cruise with my aunt.”
Mikey never talks about his dad, and most of the time when he brings up his mom it leaves him quiet, staring off at nothing. I try not to bring either of them up in general. I guess I don’t talk about my mom much, either.
“Well, that’s great news! More Mikey-time for the rest of us.” I say eventually, kissing him again before I climb out of the hot-tub and run across the tile floor. I jump wildly, arms flailing, into the deep end of the pool.
“Now get in here and fuck me stupid again!” I yell as I surface, shaking my head to clear the water from my eyes. Only to open them and see Mikey flying at me full speed. A massive grin plastered on his face.
…
About a week and half after our first date, Mikey and I are having lunch with Jack and Claire on the quad. Last week, I spotted Claire along the foot path that leads to the library and invited her to join us for lunch. Claire immediately complimented the quality of Jack’s knock off Fendi monster tote, and now they have their own text chain. Our foursome lunches have been a pretty regular thing since that day. We’ll grab food at the student union (or more often, the shawarma cart) and lounge on the grass to enjoy the last of the serotinal warmth. Apparently that’s the season we’re in, as Claire tells us.
“...Yeah, it’s the adjective form. Autumnal is obvious enough, hibernal like bears in winter, pre-vernal is when there's both frost and thaw, vernal is spring, estival is summer, and then we have right now, serotinal.” Claire muses, leaning back to catch the waning sunlight on her face. She has a tendency to orate facts in a way that always makes me feel profoundly under-read, and also delightfully collegiate. Like, this is why I’m here, to listen to brilliant people talk about the things that fascinate them.
“Anyway, soon it’ll be too cold and we’ll need a new lunch spot.” She finishes.
“The student union has a few good spots with tables, but they can be competitive.” Mikey says between bites of chicken and rice. There’s yogurt on his chin and I’m resisting licking it off. I picture us sitting in the student union but immediately remember that it’s where Brett usually hangs out.
“Uh, we can do better. Plus the food is flavorless.” I say quickly. “There’s The Works? It’s not far from the Library.” I offer up.
“Yeah, no good. The Works gets really cold in the winter. Plus it’s so far from Mikey’s classes, it hardly seems fair.” Jack chimes in, munching an apple. He’s sitting with his long legs crossed, flipping idly through a copy of Vogue and showing us occasional designs and ads. “The best thing about the quad is that it’s central to all of us.”
The debate continues but I find my attention wandering to Mikey. I love watching him eat. Like Jack, he’s sitting with his legs crossed, but their similar positions only make the proportional differences between them more apparent.
Jack’s long legs are light and lean, and with ankles crossed his knees float upward like blades of grass. His back is straight and supported. He’s languid, yet poised. Watching him it always feels like he could spring up at any moment, long muscles coiled tight around a lightweight frame. Even his bulge, which I’m now noticing, is a subtly suggestive slope along one thigh. Mikey, in stark contrast, is like a carefully stacked pile of boulders. Like the waymarkers people build along hiking trails and beaches. Each leg is resting heavily in the grass, his knees spread wide and low. His back curves forward over his takeout boat of grilled chicken and yogurt sauce, but not hunched, he’s fully supported. When he sits up (or even better, leans back) he spreads his arms out to support his mass.
Occasionally he extends an arm or leg fully, and I always marvel at his reach. He’ll start with a stretch, arms together making his pecs pop, and push them uuuuuuuup with a moan. Then he rotates his delts and drops his arms back, catching himself and stretching his spine backward out of his hunkered-down position over his food. He also seems like he’s always ready to jump up and jog off, but it’s sheer power. Sometimes when he actually does jump up and run off, I expect the earth underneath him to show dents and divots in the shapes of his massive feet and glorious ass.
This particular stretch, like most of Mikey’s stretches, ends up with him wrapping an arm around me to pull me close against his body for a quick kiss. I’m getting more comfortable with PDA. It helps that Claire is here to keep Jack entertained when we get handsy. If we get too cuddly Claire and Jack just laugh and roll their eyes, and start gossiping or planning fun future shit. Like right now.
“I can’t believe it’s already Halloween next weekend. Are you going to the party at Psi Nu?” Claire asks Jack.
“Yeah, it looks like it’s the shindig to be at. Their parties are usually good. Wild parts mixed with chill parts. And the brothers aren’t bad. I hooked up with one of them last year, they’ve got a few gay guys in the mix.” Jack replies. I can’t picture Jack with a fraternity bro, but I gather frats aren’t like they are in movies. At least I hope they aren’t.
“What are you wearing?” Claire asks excitedly.
Jack perks up at this (always a good question for Jack. Or me for that matter.)
“I’m going as Sailor Mercury from Sailor Moon.”
“Cute! I haven’t seen that show since I was in middle school. She’s the smart one, right?” Claire asks.
“Yeah, Ami. She’s my favorite.”
“That’s perfect,” Mikey gasps, being an Anime fan himself. “You look great in blue. Are you wearing the goggles?”
“Mmhmm! They arrive tomorrow.” He nods. It’s fun to see Jack feeling giddy. “How about you, Claire? What’s your costume going to be?”
“Poison Ivy from Batman & Robin. The Uma Thurman one. With the eyebrows.” Claire replies, wiggling her brows at Jack.
“Fucking iconic camp. Two enthusiastic gay thumbs up.” Jack laughs, then turns to Mikey and me, “Are you two coming to the party? Debuting your disgustingly adorable couple vibes for the State U social scene?”
“You should. It’ll be fun. Plus, safety in numbers and all that.” Claire reasons, seeing me cringe, “Think of it as a public service announcement: The campus must be informed that Mikey is off the market, and this is the perfect opportunity to rub all their faces in how hot you are together.”
“What do you think?” Mikey asks me with questioning (dare I say hopeful) eyes. “Your first college rager with your cool new friends?”
“I don’t know. A fraternity party on Halloween seems like a baptism by fire. Can’t we just do the Trick-or-Drink thing in the dorms? Or the party in the student union?” I bargain.
“Trick-or-Drink got shut down early this year. And the parties at the SU are dead. No booze, overhead lighting, chips without dip. Unfit for hot people.” Jack muses, putting on a pair of sunglasses and lying backward on the grass.
“You can only avoid the rest of the student body for so long, Adam.” Claire tells me, dropping the sing-song tone and meeting my eye, “Anyway, people want to know who the adorable and impeccably dressed new twink on campus is. It’s cruel to deprive them of your wit and color sense. With great power, and all that.”
I turn to Mikey and he’s smiling so gently at me, “I’ll do whatever you want to do.” he assures me, “But honestly, it kinda sounds like fun. I want to show you off.”
“Fuck it. Why not?” I sigh, conceding. Shit, “What are we going to wear?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll whip something up that makes all the normies look like the party-city discount-rack nightmares they are.” Jack winks.
“Wait, is this happening?” Mikey beams. “Awesome. Ok. I think I might have a couple’s costume idea that you’re going to LOVE.”
…
It’s Saturday night and we’re getting ready to go into the belly of the beast: a college fraternity on Halloween night. In a rare instance, I’m dressed down to a ratty white t-shirt and a pair of old jeans that fit tight even on my slight frame. Or maybe I’m filling out a little. Either way, I’m appropriately dressed for what we have in mind. I’ve mixed three shades of body paint, a greenish gray, a lighter green, and a muddy, darker green-gray. Brushes and painting sponges are prepped, and I’ve spread a large plastic drop cloth over the old sofa and the floor in front of it.
“Hey big guy, you ready for this?” I call over toward Mikey’s room.
“Oh yeah,” he replies from the door frame, “Born ready.” He smirks at me as he walks to the center of the tarp. He’s shirtless, and got a great pump going in his workout before we started prepping. His lower half is tantalizingly wrapped in snug fitting black pants, and a pair of sturdy boots with thick black soles brings his height to just-beyond ceiling-scraping. Even with the dark material his hefty endowment is prominently visible. I give him a slow, appreciative look up and down.
“How about you, Doctor? You ready to make your monster?” He says, grinning from ear to ear.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I sigh, and take the middle green and a big sponge and start dabbing paint onto Mikey’s abs. I stand back and take a look after blending the first spot and it’s actually going on pretty well! With a bit more confidence I start to apply the rest of the base coat across his torso. I admit, I’ve never painted a muscle god green before, and I was anxious it wouldn’t work. With that anxiety evaporating I’m able to get lost in Mikey’s body. His abs are so beautifully defined, a rolling road of cobblestones that rise up to carve crevices between each row. I dab deep into his adonis belt, watching the vein that snakes down and vanishes into the waistline of his pants pulse lightly under my touch. I follow his transverse abdominals around the sides of his belly, and then work my way up his front to the bottom of his heavy pecs. He breathes in sharply, and squirms a bit, making me smile. He’s ticklish around his mid ribcage, and I love to see him twitch when I caress there.
“Fuck. This is, um, hotter than I pictured.” He mumbles, and reaches down to adjust his growing shaft in the tight pants.
“Really?” I ask, bemused, “This is exactly how I pictured it.” I say, dragging the paint sponge across his nipple, watching it perk up in response. I slip behind him and paint his back from waist to just under his shoulder blades, being sure to follow the graceful curve of his spine.
“Alright, big guy, sit for me.” I say, scanning the room for an easy chair.
“I got ya.” Mikey says, and then kneels in front of me. With our height difference that puts his eye line at about my chin, and he looks up to meet my gaze. I’m suddenly stuck with how handsome he is. His eyes are hazel, an outer ring of green and inner circle of brown with gold flecks that sparkle and there’s this smile on his face that just makes me want to–
I drop the paint sponge, take his face in my hands and kiss him. His lips are warm and soft and I feel his hands wrap around my waist and pull me in. I guess I caught him a bit by surprise, because when I break the kiss he gasps.
“Sorry. Got lost in your eyes for a second.” I say, reaching down to grab my sponge off the tarp.
“You never have to apologize for kissing me.” He says, maybe a little love loopy still. I see the paint marks left on his face from my hands and feel my face go hot.
“Ok. Let’s finish this paint job before I tear those pants off you and we miss the party.” I say, smirking down at my gentle giant. Yeesh. He’s rubbing off on me.
From this angle I can easily paint the tops of his pecs, and I relish every moment. I gently dab paint into his deep clavicles, up and out to his monster shoulders (fucking boulders of muscle, remarkably firm at rest). I walk and paint my way around him, finishing his back. I start his arms next, getting the sponge into the lines of definition where his delts meet his triceps and biceps, marveling at their size as I dab dab dab. I feel my cock inflating and pushing hard against my tight jeans. I feel Mikey’s breath on my throat, and realize his breathing is ramping as I paint.
“Ok,” I say, noticing it came out huskier and hornier than I intended. “Stand for me again, and I’ll do the rest of your arms.”
Mikey gets one foot underneath his center mass and locks eyes with me. That fucking smirk again. I feel my cock throb steadily in my jeans as he rises up to his full height, inches from my face. He holds eye contact the entire time, moving through meeting my gaze to towering above me, looking at me down through the deep crevice between his pecs. I swallow, reflexively.
“Arms up,” I croak out, then more confidently, “Arms up, please.”
He complies, and I get more paint on my sponge. With his arms up he’s even more imposing, and I feel remarkably small. I paint his pits, starting on the left, then pause for a moment at the right. I can’t fucking help it, I get my face in his armpit and breath in his heady, post-workout musk. I’m close enough to feel his soft hair tickle my nose. He showered between getting a pump and now, and he smells like a combination of clean skin, man sweat, and sandalwood soap. I grip my own cock through my jeans and moan into him.
“Fuck, Adam, you’re so fucking hot.” He babbles at me, clearly fighting to control himself.
“Right back at you.” I say, shaking my head to clear the sex fog.
I finish his pits, and move to his arms. Fuck, his glorious, massive arms. He flexes for me, letting me hang off his arm for a moment as I paint the rolling peaks of muscle, the deep definition, and trace his thick veins snaking across the pulsing muscle. I paint his hands, loving how long and thick his fingers are. Watching the calloused palms soak up the paint.
“Ok, down, big guy.” I say, prepping the smaller sponges with the base color.
“Sorry, can’t help it.” Mikey says, adjusting his obvious growing shaft where it’s pushed out along his hip.
“Fuck.” I say, reaching down and giving it an appreciative squeeze. I was so lost in his torso that I hadn’t noticed. Very unlike me. “Um, I actually meant I need you back on your knees.” I chuckle, still groping.
“Fuck me. Yes, Sir.” Mikey says through a devious smile, clenching his ass and pumping blood to his growing beast. He slowly drops back down to his knees and I feel a growl escape my own throat. His eyes grow wide at that. (Heh. Surprised myself, too.)
I take his face in my left hand, gently, seeing his hazel eyes light up at my touch. I kiss him again, this time taking my time. I tease his lips with my own before locking us together in a passionate one. I break away and start nonchalantly painting his face. Moving his chin up or down, dabbing the sponge along his strong jaw and chin, working paint into his perpetual 5 o’clock shadow.
“Ok! That’s the base layer. Now we just need highlights, shadows, and the stitch painting.” I say, feeling accomplished, despite the numerous dick-stractions. “All we have to do is keep our hands off each other for another hour while I finish.”
“... We’re fucked.” Mikey laughs. “What was I thinking when I came up with this?”
“Well we both know which head this idea came from.” I say, reaching down to cup his epic mound in those tight jeans. The feel of it sends a shudder through me that reverberates through him starting at his junk. He moans lightly.
Yup. We’re fucked.
Chapter 15
We spent the rest of the night in the pool and hot tub. Mikey modeling and trying out his new swimsuit with some surprisingly fast laps. You’d think with all that lean mass he’d be too heavy to swim fast, but with a strong kick off and his powerful limbs, he moves through the water like a knife.
After he shows off a bit and gets in a good workout, we cuddle up in the hottub. It might be the heat from the water, but everytime he kisses me my head swims. I’m lost in the moment, feeling his hands run rampant across my body when he gasps and stops.
“What’s wrong? What’s happening?” I say, ducking into his arms in case security is finally here to arrest us.
“What time is it?” Mikey asks urgently, head craning looking for a clock on the wall. I spot it over his shoulder.
“Yeesh, after 10. We’ve been here for hours.” I reply, relieved we aren’t busted.
“Shit. Too late now.” Mikey says, shaking his head. “I had this entire evening planned for our first date! We were going to walk along the river and then go to this Mugler exhibit downtown, a collection of runway looks from some year to some other year!” he laments, clearly excited, if a bit fuzzy on details. “I ran it by Jack and his jaw dropped so I figured it was something you’d love.”
He’s right. Mugler is major. “When does the exhibit end?”
“I think it runs through Thanksgiving, so we’ve got some time.” Mikey says, bringing me in for a kiss. “Just to be clear, you do want to go on more dates, right? Are we considering this one a success?”
“Yep! Gorging ourselves on Vietnamese food followed by a rousing round of trespassing and the misuse of a therapy pool? Best first date ever.” I reply matter of factly.
“I don’t know about misuse, that felt pretty therapeutic to me.” Mikey growls into my neck and pulls me close against his ample pecs and cobblestone abs.
It basically takes no effort for him to lift me normally, in the water it feels like I’m weightless. His massive hands wrap around my waist and cup my ass and my body surges through the water in whatever direction his whims lead.
“Speaking of Thanksgiving,” I mutter into his collarbone post kiss, “Are you going home for the fall break? See your mom?”
Mikey gets quiet, looks down into the swirling water and shakes his head.
“I don’t think it’s in the cards. Honestly, we never really celebrated that one after dad died. I don’t think it even dawned on her that I might come home next month. She’s going on a cruise with my aunt.”
Mikey never talks about his dad, and most of the time when he brings up his mom it leaves him quiet, staring off at nothing. I try not to bring either of them up in general. I guess I don’t talk about my mom much, either.
“Well, that’s great news! More Mikey-time for the rest of us.” I say eventually, kissing him again before I climb out of the hot-tub and run across the tile floor. I jump wildly, arms flailing, into the deep end of the pool.
“Now get in here and fuck me stupid again!” I yell as I surface, shaking my head to clear the water from my eyes. Only to open them and see Mikey flying at me full speed. A massive grin plastered on his face.
…
About a week and half after our first date, Mikey and I are having lunch with Jack and Claire on the quad. Last week, I spotted Claire along the foot path that leads to the library and invited her to join us for lunch. Claire immediately complimented the quality of Jack’s knock off Fendi monster tote, and now they have their own text chain. Our foursome lunches have been a pretty regular thing since that day. We’ll grab food at the student union (or more often, the shawarma cart) and lounge on the grass to enjoy the last of the serotinal warmth. Apparently that’s the season we’re in, as Claire tells us.
“...Yeah, it’s the adjective form. Autumnal is obvious enough, hibernal like bears in winter, pre-vernal is when there's both frost and thaw, vernal is spring, estival is summer, and then we have right now, serotinal.” Claire muses, leaning back to catch the waning sunlight on her face. She has a tendency to orate facts in a way that always makes me feel profoundly under-read, and also delightfully collegiate. Like, this is why I’m here, to listen to brilliant people talk about the things that fascinate them.
“Anyway, soon it’ll be too cold and we’ll need a new lunch spot.” She finishes.
“The student union has a few good spots with tables, but they can be competitive.” Mikey says between bites of chicken and rice. There’s yogurt on his chin and I’m resisting licking it off. I picture us sitting in the student union but immediately remember that it’s where Brett usually hangs out.
“Uh, we can do better. Plus the food is flavorless.” I say quickly. “There’s The Works? It’s not far from the Library.” I offer up.
“Yeah, no good. The Works gets really cold in the winter. Plus it’s so far from Mikey’s classes, it hardly seems fair.” Jack chimes in, munching an apple. He’s sitting with his long legs crossed, flipping idly through a copy of Vogue and showing us occasional designs and ads. “The best thing about the quad is that it’s central to all of us.”
The debate continues but I find my attention wandering to Mikey. I love watching him eat. Like Jack, he’s sitting with his legs crossed, but their similar positions only make the proportional differences between them more apparent.
Jack’s long legs are light and lean, and with ankles crossed his knees float upward like blades of grass. His back is straight and supported. He’s languid, yet poised. Watching him it always feels like he could spring up at any moment, long muscles coiled tight around a lightweight frame. Even his bulge, which I’m now noticing, is a subtly suggestive slope along one thigh. Mikey, in stark contrast, is like a carefully stacked pile of boulders. Like the waymarkers people build along hiking trails and beaches. Each leg is resting heavily in the grass, his knees spread wide and low. His back curves forward over his takeout boat of grilled chicken and yogurt sauce, but not hunched, he’s fully supported. When he sits up (or even better, leans back) he spreads his arms out to support his mass.
Occasionally he extends an arm or leg fully, and I always marvel at his reach. He’ll start with a stretch, arms together making his pecs pop, and push them uuuuuuuup with a moan. Then he rotates his delts and drops his arms back, catching himself and stretching his spine backward out of his hunkered-down position over his food. He also seems like he’s always ready to jump up and jog off, but it’s sheer power. Sometimes when he actually does jump up and run off, I expect the earth underneath him to show dents and divots in the shapes of his massive feet and glorious ass.
This particular stretch, like most of Mikey’s stretches, ends up with him wrapping an arm around me to pull me close against his body for a quick kiss. I’m getting more comfortable with PDA. It helps that Claire is here to keep Jack entertained when we get handsy. If we get too cuddly Claire and Jack just laugh and roll their eyes, and start gossiping or planning fun future shit. Like right now.
“I can’t believe it’s already Halloween next weekend. Are you going to the party at Psi Nu?” Claire asks Jack.
“Yeah, it looks like it’s the shindig to be at. Their parties are usually good. Wild parts mixed with chill parts. And the brothers aren’t bad. I hooked up with one of them last year, they’ve got a few gay guys in the mix.” Jack replies. I can’t picture Jack with a fraternity bro, but I gather frats aren’t like they are in movies. At least I hope they aren’t.
“What are you wearing?” Claire asks excitedly.
Jack perks up at this (always a good question for Jack. Or me for that matter.)
“I’m going as Sailor Mercury from Sailor Moon.”
“Cute! I haven’t seen that show since I was in middle school. She’s the smart one, right?” Claire asks.
“Yeah, Ami. She’s my favorite.”
“That’s perfect,” Mikey gasps, being an Anime fan himself. “You look great in blue. Are you wearing the goggles?”
“Mmhmm! They arrive tomorrow.” He nods. It’s fun to see Jack feeling giddy. “How about you, Claire? What’s your costume going to be?”
“Poison Ivy from Batman & Robin. The Uma Thurman one. With the eyebrows.” Claire replies, wiggling her brows at Jack.
“Fucking iconic camp. Two enthusiastic gay thumbs up.” Jack laughs, then turns to Mikey and me, “Are you two coming to the party? Debuting your disgustingly adorable couple vibes for the State U social scene?”
“You should. It’ll be fun. Plus, safety in numbers and all that.” Claire reasons, seeing me cringe, “Think of it as a public service announcement: The campus must be informed that Mikey is off the market, and this is the perfect opportunity to rub all their faces in how hot you are together.”
“What do you think?” Mikey asks me with questioning (dare I say hopeful) eyes. “Your first college rager with your cool new friends?”
“I don’t know. A fraternity party on Halloween seems like a baptism by fire. Can’t we just do the Trick-or-Drink thing in the dorms? Or the party in the student union?” I bargain.
“Trick-or-Drink got shut down early this year. And the parties at the SU are dead. No booze, overhead lighting, chips without dip. Unfit for hot people.” Jack muses, putting on a pair of sunglasses and lying backward on the grass.
“You can only avoid the rest of the student body for so long, Adam.” Claire tells me, dropping the sing-song tone and meeting my eye, “Anyway, people want to know who the adorable and impeccably dressed new twink on campus is. It’s cruel to deprive them of your wit and color sense. With great power, and all that.”
I turn to Mikey and he’s smiling so gently at me, “I’ll do whatever you want to do.” he assures me, “But honestly, it kinda sounds like fun. I want to show you off.”
“Fuck it. Why not?” I sigh, conceding. Shit, “What are we going to wear?”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll whip something up that makes all the normies look like the party-city discount-rack nightmares they are.” Jack winks.
“Wait, is this happening?” Mikey beams. “Awesome. Ok. I think I might have a couple’s costume idea that you’re going to LOVE.”
…
It’s Saturday night and we’re getting ready to go into the belly of the beast: a college fraternity on Halloween night. In a rare instance, I’m dressed down to a ratty white t-shirt and a pair of old jeans that fit tight even on my slight frame. Or maybe I’m filling out a little. Either way, I’m appropriately dressed for what we have in mind. I’ve mixed three shades of body paint, a greenish gray, a lighter green, and a muddy, darker green-gray. Brushes and painting sponges are prepped, and I’ve spread a large plastic drop cloth over the old sofa and the floor in front of it.
“Hey big guy, you ready for this?” I call over toward Mikey’s room.
“Oh yeah,” he replies from the door frame, “Born ready.” He smirks at me as he walks to the center of the tarp. He’s shirtless, and got a great pump going in his workout before we started prepping. His lower half is tantalizingly wrapped in snug fitting black pants, and a pair of sturdy boots with thick black soles brings his height to just-beyond ceiling-scraping. Even with the dark material his hefty endowment is prominently visible. I give him a slow, appreciative look up and down.
“How about you, Doctor? You ready to make your monster?” He says, grinning from ear to ear.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” I sigh, and take the middle green and a big sponge and start dabbing paint onto Mikey’s abs. I stand back and take a look after blending the first spot and it’s actually going on pretty well! With a bit more confidence I start to apply the rest of the base coat across his torso. I admit, I’ve never painted a muscle god green before, and I was anxious it wouldn’t work. With that anxiety evaporating I’m able to get lost in Mikey’s body. His abs are so beautifully defined, a rolling road of cobblestones that rise up to carve crevices between each row. I dab deep into his adonis belt, watching the vein that snakes down and vanishes into the waistline of his pants pulse lightly under my touch. I follow his transverse abdominals around the sides of his belly, and then work my way up his front to the bottom of his heavy pecs. He breathes in sharply, and squirms a bit, making me smile. He’s ticklish around his mid ribcage, and I love to see him twitch when I caress there.
“Fuck. This is, um, hotter than I pictured.” He mumbles, and reaches down to adjust his growing shaft in the tight pants.
“Really?” I ask, bemused, “This is exactly how I pictured it.” I say, dragging the paint sponge across his nipple, watching it perk up in response. I slip behind him and paint his back from waist to just under his shoulder blades, being sure to follow the graceful curve of his spine.
“Alright, big guy, sit for me.” I say, scanning the room for an easy chair.
“I got ya.” Mikey says, and then kneels in front of me. With our height difference that puts his eye line at about my chin, and he looks up to meet my gaze. I’m suddenly stuck with how handsome he is. His eyes are hazel, an outer ring of green and inner circle of brown with gold flecks that sparkle and there’s this smile on his face that just makes me want to–
I drop the paint sponge, take his face in my hands and kiss him. His lips are warm and soft and I feel his hands wrap around my waist and pull me in. I guess I caught him a bit by surprise, because when I break the kiss he gasps.
“Sorry. Got lost in your eyes for a second.” I say, reaching down to grab my sponge off the tarp.
“You never have to apologize for kissing me.” He says, maybe a little love loopy still. I see the paint marks left on his face from my hands and feel my face go hot.
“Ok. Let’s finish this paint job before I tear those pants off you and we miss the party.” I say, smirking down at my gentle giant. Yeesh. He’s rubbing off on me.
From this angle I can easily paint the tops of his pecs, and I relish every moment. I gently dab paint into his deep clavicles, up and out to his monster shoulders (fucking boulders of muscle, remarkably firm at rest). I walk and paint my way around him, finishing his back. I start his arms next, getting the sponge into the lines of definition where his delts meet his triceps and biceps, marveling at their size as I dab dab dab. I feel my cock inflating and pushing hard against my tight jeans. I feel Mikey’s breath on my throat, and realize his breathing is ramping as I paint.
“Ok,” I say, noticing it came out huskier and hornier than I intended. “Stand for me again, and I’ll do the rest of your arms.”
Mikey gets one foot underneath his center mass and locks eyes with me. That fucking smirk again. I feel my cock throb steadily in my jeans as he rises up to his full height, inches from my face. He holds eye contact the entire time, moving through meeting my gaze to towering above me, looking at me down through the deep crevice between his pecs. I swallow, reflexively.
“Arms up,” I croak out, then more confidently, “Arms up, please.”
He complies, and I get more paint on my sponge. With his arms up he’s even more imposing, and I feel remarkably small. I paint his pits, starting on the left, then pause for a moment at the right. I can’t fucking help it, I get my face in his armpit and breath in his heady, post-workout musk. I’m close enough to feel his soft hair tickle my nose. He showered between getting a pump and now, and he smells like a combination of clean skin, man sweat, and sandalwood soap. I grip my own cock through my jeans and moan into him.
“Fuck, Adam, you’re so fucking hot.” He babbles at me, clearly fighting to control himself.
“Right back at you.” I say, shaking my head to clear the sex fog.
I finish his pits, and move to his arms. Fuck, his glorious, massive arms. He flexes for me, letting me hang off his arm for a moment as I paint the rolling peaks of muscle, the deep definition, and trace his thick veins snaking across the pulsing muscle. I paint his hands, loving how long and thick his fingers are. Watching the calloused palms soak up the paint.
“Ok, down, big guy.” I say, prepping the smaller sponges with the base color.
“Sorry, can’t help it.” Mikey says, adjusting his obvious growing shaft where it’s pushed out along his hip.
“Fuck.” I say, reaching down and giving it an appreciative squeeze. I was so lost in his torso that I hadn’t noticed. Very unlike me. “Um, I actually meant I need you back on your knees.” I chuckle, still groping.
“Fuck me. Yes, Sir.” Mikey says through a devious smile, clenching his ass and pumping blood to his growing beast. He slowly drops back down to his knees and I feel a growl escape my own throat. His eyes grow wide at that. (Heh. Surprised myself, too.)
I take his face in my left hand, gently, seeing his hazel eyes light up at my touch. I kiss him again, this time taking my time. I tease his lips with my own before locking us together in a passionate one. I break away and start nonchalantly painting his face. Moving his chin up or down, dabbing the sponge along his strong jaw and chin, working paint into his perpetual 5 o’clock shadow.
“Ok! That’s the base layer. Now we just need highlights, shadows, and the stitch painting.” I say, feeling accomplished, despite the numerous dick-stractions. “All we have to do is keep our hands off each other for another hour while I finish.”
“... We’re fucked.” Mikey laughs. “What was I thinking when I came up with this?”
“Well we both know which head this idea came from.” I say, reaching down to cup his epic mound in those tight jeans. The feel of it sends a shudder through me that reverberates through him starting at his junk. He moans lightly.
Yup. We’re fucked.
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Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.I think it's a dead thread now
- Joined
- Apr 15, 2024
- Posts
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- Likes
- 1,378
- Points
- 333
- Location
- Portland, Oregon, US
- Sexuality
- Pansexual
You've all been so patient, here's the next one. It'll be two posts since it's longer. Admittedly less proofread than previously.
Chapter 16
“Well look who decided to finally show up!” Claire calls to us from the grand wrap-around porch of the Psi Nu house. The fraternity must have a killer gardener, because Claire looks right at home sitting on their railing in her Poison Ivy costume. Large wisteria vines wrap around a trellis and onto the eaves above her, and dense boxwoods and waxy-leafed camellias line the beds beneath. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”
She’s surrounded by 4 or 5 people, all of them strangers to me. Alrighty then, here we go. Mikey gives me a smile and we walk up the porch steps side by side. When we approach the group, all eyes are on Mikey. And with good reason. I spent my time well, building highlights and contours to emphasize and exaggerate every rippling muscle in his torso. Watching all those body painting tutorials on Youtube really paid off. Once I’d finished the color work I used a slender brush to paint the stitches on my Frankenstein’s monster. For my own costume, we found an old lab coat and I tailored it a bit, and paired it with gray wool slacks and a white Victorian-era button front shirt (thanks to Jack and his connections in the theater department’s costume closet). Then I messed up my brown curls and used a bit of purple eyeshadow and smudged black eyeliner to bring home the mad-scientist vibes.
For a finishing touch, Claire loaned Mikey a pair of radioactive green contact lenses. Which is how we discovered Mikey’s one weakness: touching his own eyeball. I laughed for a solid 25 minutes as he struggled and swore into the mirror, tears and saline wash running down his face. He was only able to get one of them in comfortably before giving up, so I added a stitch line running from his hairline and wrapping around the orbital socket, as if his face were two corpses sewn together, and honestly I think it turned out better than if he’d managed both.
The complete image is a pocket-sized Dr Frankenstein and a jacked behemoth of a Frankenstein’s monster. We look like a bara manga version of the classic and it took everything in my power not to just jump his bones the moment we finished. But we fucking made it. We look hot as fuck, scary as hell, and we’re at our first college party.
“Hot damn!” Claire cries out as she hops off her perch on the railing and pulls me into a hug, enveloping me in a cloud of green tulle and fake english ivy.
“You two look amazing! Go on, give me a pose.” She commands, waving her hands as if arranging a tableau.
Mikey does a quarter turn, tightens his abs, and throws up a bicep. His massive arm rising into an insane peak, only emphasized by my paint job. I try my best, “It’s alive!” look and turn my palms up toward the heavens in triumph. Claire laughs and wolf whistles so hard I almost don’t notice the flash.
“Hey!” Claire chides her friend who’s holding up a phone snapping pics. “Manners, Julia. Jesus, people, a little warning before breaking out the cameras.” Claire says before fluffing her red wig and rearranging her ample tits in their corseted confines. She steps into the frame and joins us on Mikey’s other side and we both swoon while he rattles off a quick posing routine. Claire’s friend snaps a few more pics laughing, then turns to her little group and mimes fanning herself, as if overwhelmed by the hotness. Believe me, sweetie, I get it.
“You look amazing, by the way.” I tell Claire after our photoshoot. I’m being honest, too. She’s got a great balance of burlesque and movie costume references, and the asymmetry of her tulle/ivy embellishment feels organic and flattering. “Where’s Jack, inside?”
“Thank you! And no, I haven’t seen him yet! I texted him and he replied ‘never rush a drag queen’ and then went radio silent.” She replies, eyes rolling at the last part.
“Come along, let’s get you two drinks and take a lap? See the house?” Claire proposes, linking arms with us. She hesitates a moment, “Mikey, hon, are you still wet? Cuz I borrowed a lot of this and I’m not getting body paint on it without getting lucky for my trouble.”
“HA! All good. Adam set me with powder and hairspray. I might be stuck this way for life.” He replies, still managing to be charming through 8 layers of monster makeup.
“Excellent!” Claire says, pulling us close. “Let’s party.”
…
The Psi Nu house is as grand inside as it is outside, only they really went nuts on the decorations inside. There are dense cotton cobwebs strung from every crown molding and door frame. Purple, green, and orange string lights twinkle everywhere through occasional bursts of fog from a machine tucked into the corner of the living room, which appears to be hosting a drinking game centered around a deck of cards circling a single pint glass.
Through a large archway covered with hanging bats and plastic bones we enter the dining room, where the long table in the center is an active beer pong tournament. A Roman centurion and Spiderman (decent bulge, nice ass. Thank you, spandex) are clearly winning against a toilet paper mummy with his boxers hanging out and a Party-City Cleopatra who is definitely not being a good loser. We slip through the crowd watching the game and pop through another doorway into the kitchen, where a tall guy with safety goggles and a lab coat is presiding over a large kitchen island covered with liquor and mixers. He teased his shaggy blonde hair up and sprayed it green. Claire glides into a spot along the counter and pulls me forward.
“Wes! You look adorable in green!” Claire flirts with the bartender, “What are you mixing up? Got enough for three more?”
“Claaaaaaaire! Yeah, I got ya covered. Who are your friends?” Wes replies, deftly combining bottles with a clear sense of purpose, and only giving one eyebrow raise at Mikey’s looming form behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.
“This adorable fashionista is Adam, cream of the freshman crop at The Works.” She introduces, “And this is his boyfriend Mikey. Don’t let the brawn fool you, he’s majoring in sports medicine and absolutely slaying. Boys, this is Wes, we dated freshman year, then realized I’m too awesome for him.”
“I remember that differently.” Wes says with a wink, “But we can debate later.”
“Promise?” Claire teases, taking drinks from the now blushing bar boy and distributing them.
“Good to meet you!” Mikey calls out over the din, “Anyone with the balls to debate Claire is someone worth knowing.”
“Damn. Flattery will only get you more drinks.” Wes smiles back.
I sip my drink and find it fruity, sweet, and absurdly alcoholic. A step up from high school party punch, but the intent feels the same: Get faded and get faded fast. We bounce from one room to the next for about an hour; a den lined with couches around an improvised dance floor, crowded with bodies. A fenced yard lit by bistro lights and the glow of an empty hot tub steaming in the night air. A finished basement with another bar and a foosball table surrounded by grunting jocks. It’s no surprise that Mikey gets immediate attention in any room we enter. Some people are flat out staring. One girl yelled “Franken-Fuck-Me!” at the top of her lungs as we left the den. The crowd is already getting pretty thick in each room, and I’m beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the jostling of bodies, but Mikey is always close to me, and when I get feeling cagey he always manages to put a reassuring hand on the small of my back or give my hand a squeeze.
Claire introduces us to more people than I can possibly remember and I slowly realize she’s actually quite popular. I don’t know why I hadn’t realized. She’s always parting ways with one group or another before joining us on the quad for lunch. Her and Mikey make a great pair, effortlessly chatting with every person we meet. I wish Jack would get here already so I had another introvert to wallflower with.
“Alrighty, that’s the run of the place. Except upstairs, but that’s all Brother’s rooms. People only go up there when they get invited to smoke pot or hook up.” Claire says, wrapping up our guided tour of the party.
“They’ve got a great setup here.” Mikey says, looking around with an eager grin. “What do we do first? Get in on the pong tournament? The DJ seems good, we could dance?”
Oh shit, he’s asking me. Claire is looking at me too.
“Um. I’ve never played beer pong before,I don’t know how.” I answer, looking around for an easy answer. I’ve also never danced in public before, but I’m not about to admit that. Wait, why? Why would I not admit that? I look at my friends and shrug, “Fuck, this is all kinda new territory for me.”
“Have you ever won a goldfish at a carnival?” Mikey asks.
“Yeah, when I was like, 12.”
“Then you have the skills for beer pong! Honestly, if you hate it, I’ll never ask you to play again.” He says, disarming me with a smile. “What do you say, you down for a night of trying new things?”
“What the hell. Let’s do it.”
Mikey smirks. “Fuck yeah.”
…
It turns out I’m pretty good at beer pong. After challenging the reigning champions Sid (the Roman Centurion) and Dan (Spiderman) to a match, we realized they were already pretty blitzed from having won a few rounds. Don’t get me wrong, we drank our share, as Sid the Centurion has a mean shot when he can focus. But between Mikey’s natural coaching ability and my borderline unhealthy competitive streak, we were able to keep up, and then totally wipe them out. Sid and Dan were gracious losers, particularly when Mikey told them it was my first game.
“It was an honor to lose to you. Like getting the shit kicked out of me by David AND Goliath.” Sid mused, shaking our hands in turn. I noticed him stealing a lot of glances during the match, and not just at Mikey.
“I demand a rematch once you two have gotten on this goddamn level!” Dan exclaims gesturing at himself, then jump-tackling Sid’s back and riding him into the kitchen shouting “YAH, Giddyup.”
“I need a refill, I’m following that mess.” Claire announces, trailing after Sid and Dan.
“So…?” Mikey says, turning to me.
“So… one of Wes’s drinks and one game of beer pong in and I’m feeling ready to try a bit of dancing.” I reply, warmth in my cheeks.
“YES.” And we’re off to the den in a bee line. Mikey weaving between couples parked making out in the hallway, towing me along through the crowd in an even flow.
We arrive and land plumb in the middle of the dance floor, dark aside from the spinning lights cutting rainbow beams through the fog-machine mist. Mikey bounces on the balls of his feet like a boxer, bobbing and nodding his head to the rapid EDM. For a moment I’m dumbstruck, watching his body pulse and gyrate, his rippling core, his heavy pecs bouncing, arms flexing and releasing in perfect tempo. Fuck, he dances like a go-go boy, and when he sees me staring, he looks like he knowns it, too. He runs a hand down his undulating torso and hooks his thumb into the waistband of his jeans, letting his fingers brush across the sizable bulge beneath.
He beckons me toward him. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he didn’t need to. Either way I’m in his arms and then I’m pressed against him and then I’m kissing him. He’s still dancing, swaying and lifting me as we kiss and grind. I feel my feet reach the ground and the beat takes over, driving me to dance. I spin and jump and Mikey matches me, throwing liquid hands like a rave kid, then surprising me again with some skilled animator moves.
Shit. Of course he can dance. What can’t he do? Oh! Put in contacts! Yes. Gotta remember that. I cackle at that thought and Mikey raises amused eyebrows at me.
“I’ll tell you later!” I yell over the blaring speakers.
We’re dancing for I don’t know how long. How long are EDM songs? Do EDM songs have ends? Just when I start to feel like I’m losing steam, I feel a pair of hands spin me around and I come face to face with a stunning anime goddess. Shining blue hair, gold circlet, cerulean and white sailor suit with perfectly laid pleats in the skirt. Every detail was on point.
“JACK!” I practically scream, jump-hugging my mentor. “You’re finally here!”
“Yes! I have come to save you from the overwhelming boredom you’re obviously experiencing without me!” Jack declares over the music.
“Save us, Sailor Mercury!” Mikey cries out, swooning hilariously and scooping Jack into a high flying bear hug.
“Holy fuck, Frankenstein!” Jack laughs as they spin together. “Lemme down you brute!”
With that Mikey puts Jack on his feet and the three of us dance together to the thumping bass. It’s another few songs of jumping and spinning before I start to feel a bit more lightheaded than I realized. I take a step back and Mikey looks at me with concern. I fan myself, hoping to indicate I’m a bit flushed.
“You wanna get some water?” Mikey shouts over the music, leaning down to reach my ear.
“Yeah, I think I’ll head to the kitchen and find Claire!” I yell back.
“I’ll come!” He screams, just as the song drops for a moment, making it the loudest thing anyone has ever heard. People look over but the music picks back up immediately. I burst out laughing as Mikey tries to shrink himself (to no avail, I might add).
“I’m good! You two keep dancing!” I say, shooing Mikey back to Jack as I meander drunkenly to the brightly lit kitchen.
Bartender Wes has been replaced by Sid from beer pong, and he looks up with a grin when I approach the kitchen island.
“Doctor Frankenstien, good to see you again.” Sis says jovially, “What’s your poison.”
“Sid the Centurion, always a pleasure.” I reply, a little sloppy on my S sounds. “Is there water?”
“Absolutely.” He says, handing me a small bottle of water. “I saw you and your monster getting hot on the dancefloor, I’d be thirsty after grinding that beast too.”
I blush what must be a deep and vibrant shade of crimson.
“Yeah, we get a little wrapped up in it sometimes. Didn’t realize we had an audience.” I mutter, feeling like hiding somewhere.
“Oh, I think this whole party might be your audience tonight. You two are the hottest couple to come along in a hot minute.” Sid winks back, “I had to step out of the room. Nowhere to hide a boner in this leather skirt thing.”
“Pteruges.” I automatically reply before what he says actually sinks in.
“What?”
“The skirt thing. They’re called pteruges. It’s plural, each strip is a pteruge.” I say, really looking the Centurion up and down for the first time. He’s a shorter guy, maybe 5’ 9” or 5’ 8”, but he’s built square and strong and he obviously works out. Nice pecs and big round shoulders, a soft layer covers an obviously strong core. I glance further down and see his legs are almost as thick as Mikey’s. His strappy roman sandals laced up some seriously carved calves and his powerful thighs vanishing into the hanging leather folds.
“Huh. Good to know.” He replies, smiling rakishly as he looks me up and down in return. “I admit I picked this costume just to be naked all night. I love showing off.”
“Heh. You and my boyfriend have that in common.” I laugh, glancing back toward the den and the pulsing lights and music. That’s when I see him. That fucker Brett is standing in the hall that runs along the stairs. He’s looking away, into the living room with that sneer on his face.
“Shit!” I mutter, and step out of view quickly.
“Uhhhh, you ok?” Says Sid, all flirting gone from his voice. “Oh, THAT guy. Ugh.”
“You know that fucker?” I ask.
“Yeah, Brett something. He came to a pledge mixer and gave everyone bad vibes. He’s gross around women, too.” Sid says, keeping an eye on him. “How do you know him?”
“That asshat’s been bullying me since fucking orientation. Can’t seem to shake him.” I say, realizing I’m ready to run out of this party. Fuck. I hate this. I hate feeling afraid to just do normal shit. I’m more angry than afraid now, and absolutely ready to confront him, but what would I do about Mikey? Brett could hurt him if things got physical. Actually, probably not, but I don’t want Mikey arrested, either.
“Hey, you want to hide out upstairs with your boyfriend while I take care of it?” Sid offers, “We can get rid of that guy quietly and then you can either head out safely or rejoin the party once he’s gone?”
I consider it a moment, and look Sid in the eyes for a sign of duplicity or ill intent (shit, do I have trust issues?).
“Yes. Please. That would be great.” I sigh, finally.
CONTINUES ON NEXT POST
Chapter 16
“Well look who decided to finally show up!” Claire calls to us from the grand wrap-around porch of the Psi Nu house. The fraternity must have a killer gardener, because Claire looks right at home sitting on their railing in her Poison Ivy costume. Large wisteria vines wrap around a trellis and onto the eaves above her, and dense boxwoods and waxy-leafed camellias line the beds beneath. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about us.”
She’s surrounded by 4 or 5 people, all of them strangers to me. Alrighty then, here we go. Mikey gives me a smile and we walk up the porch steps side by side. When we approach the group, all eyes are on Mikey. And with good reason. I spent my time well, building highlights and contours to emphasize and exaggerate every rippling muscle in his torso. Watching all those body painting tutorials on Youtube really paid off. Once I’d finished the color work I used a slender brush to paint the stitches on my Frankenstein’s monster. For my own costume, we found an old lab coat and I tailored it a bit, and paired it with gray wool slacks and a white Victorian-era button front shirt (thanks to Jack and his connections in the theater department’s costume closet). Then I messed up my brown curls and used a bit of purple eyeshadow and smudged black eyeliner to bring home the mad-scientist vibes.
For a finishing touch, Claire loaned Mikey a pair of radioactive green contact lenses. Which is how we discovered Mikey’s one weakness: touching his own eyeball. I laughed for a solid 25 minutes as he struggled and swore into the mirror, tears and saline wash running down his face. He was only able to get one of them in comfortably before giving up, so I added a stitch line running from his hairline and wrapping around the orbital socket, as if his face were two corpses sewn together, and honestly I think it turned out better than if he’d managed both.
The complete image is a pocket-sized Dr Frankenstein and a jacked behemoth of a Frankenstein’s monster. We look like a bara manga version of the classic and it took everything in my power not to just jump his bones the moment we finished. But we fucking made it. We look hot as fuck, scary as hell, and we’re at our first college party.
“Hot damn!” Claire cries out as she hops off her perch on the railing and pulls me into a hug, enveloping me in a cloud of green tulle and fake english ivy.
“You two look amazing! Go on, give me a pose.” She commands, waving her hands as if arranging a tableau.
Mikey does a quarter turn, tightens his abs, and throws up a bicep. His massive arm rising into an insane peak, only emphasized by my paint job. I try my best, “It’s alive!” look and turn my palms up toward the heavens in triumph. Claire laughs and wolf whistles so hard I almost don’t notice the flash.
“Hey!” Claire chides her friend who’s holding up a phone snapping pics. “Manners, Julia. Jesus, people, a little warning before breaking out the cameras.” Claire says before fluffing her red wig and rearranging her ample tits in their corseted confines. She steps into the frame and joins us on Mikey’s other side and we both swoon while he rattles off a quick posing routine. Claire’s friend snaps a few more pics laughing, then turns to her little group and mimes fanning herself, as if overwhelmed by the hotness. Believe me, sweetie, I get it.
“You look amazing, by the way.” I tell Claire after our photoshoot. I’m being honest, too. She’s got a great balance of burlesque and movie costume references, and the asymmetry of her tulle/ivy embellishment feels organic and flattering. “Where’s Jack, inside?”
“Thank you! And no, I haven’t seen him yet! I texted him and he replied ‘never rush a drag queen’ and then went radio silent.” She replies, eyes rolling at the last part.
“Come along, let’s get you two drinks and take a lap? See the house?” Claire proposes, linking arms with us. She hesitates a moment, “Mikey, hon, are you still wet? Cuz I borrowed a lot of this and I’m not getting body paint on it without getting lucky for my trouble.”
“HA! All good. Adam set me with powder and hairspray. I might be stuck this way for life.” He replies, still managing to be charming through 8 layers of monster makeup.
“Excellent!” Claire says, pulling us close. “Let’s party.”
…
The Psi Nu house is as grand inside as it is outside, only they really went nuts on the decorations inside. There are dense cotton cobwebs strung from every crown molding and door frame. Purple, green, and orange string lights twinkle everywhere through occasional bursts of fog from a machine tucked into the corner of the living room, which appears to be hosting a drinking game centered around a deck of cards circling a single pint glass.
Through a large archway covered with hanging bats and plastic bones we enter the dining room, where the long table in the center is an active beer pong tournament. A Roman centurion and Spiderman (decent bulge, nice ass. Thank you, spandex) are clearly winning against a toilet paper mummy with his boxers hanging out and a Party-City Cleopatra who is definitely not being a good loser. We slip through the crowd watching the game and pop through another doorway into the kitchen, where a tall guy with safety goggles and a lab coat is presiding over a large kitchen island covered with liquor and mixers. He teased his shaggy blonde hair up and sprayed it green. Claire glides into a spot along the counter and pulls me forward.
“Wes! You look adorable in green!” Claire flirts with the bartender, “What are you mixing up? Got enough for three more?”
“Claaaaaaaire! Yeah, I got ya covered. Who are your friends?” Wes replies, deftly combining bottles with a clear sense of purpose, and only giving one eyebrow raise at Mikey’s looming form behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.
“This adorable fashionista is Adam, cream of the freshman crop at The Works.” She introduces, “And this is his boyfriend Mikey. Don’t let the brawn fool you, he’s majoring in sports medicine and absolutely slaying. Boys, this is Wes, we dated freshman year, then realized I’m too awesome for him.”
“I remember that differently.” Wes says with a wink, “But we can debate later.”
“Promise?” Claire teases, taking drinks from the now blushing bar boy and distributing them.
“Good to meet you!” Mikey calls out over the din, “Anyone with the balls to debate Claire is someone worth knowing.”
“Damn. Flattery will only get you more drinks.” Wes smiles back.
I sip my drink and find it fruity, sweet, and absurdly alcoholic. A step up from high school party punch, but the intent feels the same: Get faded and get faded fast. We bounce from one room to the next for about an hour; a den lined with couches around an improvised dance floor, crowded with bodies. A fenced yard lit by bistro lights and the glow of an empty hot tub steaming in the night air. A finished basement with another bar and a foosball table surrounded by grunting jocks. It’s no surprise that Mikey gets immediate attention in any room we enter. Some people are flat out staring. One girl yelled “Franken-Fuck-Me!” at the top of her lungs as we left the den. The crowd is already getting pretty thick in each room, and I’m beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by the jostling of bodies, but Mikey is always close to me, and when I get feeling cagey he always manages to put a reassuring hand on the small of my back or give my hand a squeeze.
Claire introduces us to more people than I can possibly remember and I slowly realize she’s actually quite popular. I don’t know why I hadn’t realized. She’s always parting ways with one group or another before joining us on the quad for lunch. Her and Mikey make a great pair, effortlessly chatting with every person we meet. I wish Jack would get here already so I had another introvert to wallflower with.
“Alrighty, that’s the run of the place. Except upstairs, but that’s all Brother’s rooms. People only go up there when they get invited to smoke pot or hook up.” Claire says, wrapping up our guided tour of the party.
“They’ve got a great setup here.” Mikey says, looking around with an eager grin. “What do we do first? Get in on the pong tournament? The DJ seems good, we could dance?”
Oh shit, he’s asking me. Claire is looking at me too.
“Um. I’ve never played beer pong before,I don’t know how.” I answer, looking around for an easy answer. I’ve also never danced in public before, but I’m not about to admit that. Wait, why? Why would I not admit that? I look at my friends and shrug, “Fuck, this is all kinda new territory for me.”
“Have you ever won a goldfish at a carnival?” Mikey asks.
“Yeah, when I was like, 12.”
“Then you have the skills for beer pong! Honestly, if you hate it, I’ll never ask you to play again.” He says, disarming me with a smile. “What do you say, you down for a night of trying new things?”
“What the hell. Let’s do it.”
Mikey smirks. “Fuck yeah.”
…
It turns out I’m pretty good at beer pong. After challenging the reigning champions Sid (the Roman Centurion) and Dan (Spiderman) to a match, we realized they were already pretty blitzed from having won a few rounds. Don’t get me wrong, we drank our share, as Sid the Centurion has a mean shot when he can focus. But between Mikey’s natural coaching ability and my borderline unhealthy competitive streak, we were able to keep up, and then totally wipe them out. Sid and Dan were gracious losers, particularly when Mikey told them it was my first game.
“It was an honor to lose to you. Like getting the shit kicked out of me by David AND Goliath.” Sid mused, shaking our hands in turn. I noticed him stealing a lot of glances during the match, and not just at Mikey.
“I demand a rematch once you two have gotten on this goddamn level!” Dan exclaims gesturing at himself, then jump-tackling Sid’s back and riding him into the kitchen shouting “YAH, Giddyup.”
“I need a refill, I’m following that mess.” Claire announces, trailing after Sid and Dan.
“So…?” Mikey says, turning to me.
“So… one of Wes’s drinks and one game of beer pong in and I’m feeling ready to try a bit of dancing.” I reply, warmth in my cheeks.
“YES.” And we’re off to the den in a bee line. Mikey weaving between couples parked making out in the hallway, towing me along through the crowd in an even flow.
We arrive and land plumb in the middle of the dance floor, dark aside from the spinning lights cutting rainbow beams through the fog-machine mist. Mikey bounces on the balls of his feet like a boxer, bobbing and nodding his head to the rapid EDM. For a moment I’m dumbstruck, watching his body pulse and gyrate, his rippling core, his heavy pecs bouncing, arms flexing and releasing in perfect tempo. Fuck, he dances like a go-go boy, and when he sees me staring, he looks like he knowns it, too. He runs a hand down his undulating torso and hooks his thumb into the waistband of his jeans, letting his fingers brush across the sizable bulge beneath.
He beckons me toward him. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he didn’t need to. Either way I’m in his arms and then I’m pressed against him and then I’m kissing him. He’s still dancing, swaying and lifting me as we kiss and grind. I feel my feet reach the ground and the beat takes over, driving me to dance. I spin and jump and Mikey matches me, throwing liquid hands like a rave kid, then surprising me again with some skilled animator moves.
Shit. Of course he can dance. What can’t he do? Oh! Put in contacts! Yes. Gotta remember that. I cackle at that thought and Mikey raises amused eyebrows at me.
“I’ll tell you later!” I yell over the blaring speakers.
We’re dancing for I don’t know how long. How long are EDM songs? Do EDM songs have ends? Just when I start to feel like I’m losing steam, I feel a pair of hands spin me around and I come face to face with a stunning anime goddess. Shining blue hair, gold circlet, cerulean and white sailor suit with perfectly laid pleats in the skirt. Every detail was on point.
“JACK!” I practically scream, jump-hugging my mentor. “You’re finally here!”
“Yes! I have come to save you from the overwhelming boredom you’re obviously experiencing without me!” Jack declares over the music.
“Save us, Sailor Mercury!” Mikey cries out, swooning hilariously and scooping Jack into a high flying bear hug.
“Holy fuck, Frankenstein!” Jack laughs as they spin together. “Lemme down you brute!”
With that Mikey puts Jack on his feet and the three of us dance together to the thumping bass. It’s another few songs of jumping and spinning before I start to feel a bit more lightheaded than I realized. I take a step back and Mikey looks at me with concern. I fan myself, hoping to indicate I’m a bit flushed.
“You wanna get some water?” Mikey shouts over the music, leaning down to reach my ear.
“Yeah, I think I’ll head to the kitchen and find Claire!” I yell back.
“I’ll come!” He screams, just as the song drops for a moment, making it the loudest thing anyone has ever heard. People look over but the music picks back up immediately. I burst out laughing as Mikey tries to shrink himself (to no avail, I might add).
“I’m good! You two keep dancing!” I say, shooing Mikey back to Jack as I meander drunkenly to the brightly lit kitchen.
Bartender Wes has been replaced by Sid from beer pong, and he looks up with a grin when I approach the kitchen island.
“Doctor Frankenstien, good to see you again.” Sis says jovially, “What’s your poison.”
“Sid the Centurion, always a pleasure.” I reply, a little sloppy on my S sounds. “Is there water?”
“Absolutely.” He says, handing me a small bottle of water. “I saw you and your monster getting hot on the dancefloor, I’d be thirsty after grinding that beast too.”
I blush what must be a deep and vibrant shade of crimson.
“Yeah, we get a little wrapped up in it sometimes. Didn’t realize we had an audience.” I mutter, feeling like hiding somewhere.
“Oh, I think this whole party might be your audience tonight. You two are the hottest couple to come along in a hot minute.” Sid winks back, “I had to step out of the room. Nowhere to hide a boner in this leather skirt thing.”
“Pteruges.” I automatically reply before what he says actually sinks in.
“What?”
“The skirt thing. They’re called pteruges. It’s plural, each strip is a pteruge.” I say, really looking the Centurion up and down for the first time. He’s a shorter guy, maybe 5’ 9” or 5’ 8”, but he’s built square and strong and he obviously works out. Nice pecs and big round shoulders, a soft layer covers an obviously strong core. I glance further down and see his legs are almost as thick as Mikey’s. His strappy roman sandals laced up some seriously carved calves and his powerful thighs vanishing into the hanging leather folds.
“Huh. Good to know.” He replies, smiling rakishly as he looks me up and down in return. “I admit I picked this costume just to be naked all night. I love showing off.”
“Heh. You and my boyfriend have that in common.” I laugh, glancing back toward the den and the pulsing lights and music. That’s when I see him. That fucker Brett is standing in the hall that runs along the stairs. He’s looking away, into the living room with that sneer on his face.
“Shit!” I mutter, and step out of view quickly.
“Uhhhh, you ok?” Says Sid, all flirting gone from his voice. “Oh, THAT guy. Ugh.”
“You know that fucker?” I ask.
“Yeah, Brett something. He came to a pledge mixer and gave everyone bad vibes. He’s gross around women, too.” Sid says, keeping an eye on him. “How do you know him?”
“That asshat’s been bullying me since fucking orientation. Can’t seem to shake him.” I say, realizing I’m ready to run out of this party. Fuck. I hate this. I hate feeling afraid to just do normal shit. I’m more angry than afraid now, and absolutely ready to confront him, but what would I do about Mikey? Brett could hurt him if things got physical. Actually, probably not, but I don’t want Mikey arrested, either.
“Hey, you want to hide out upstairs with your boyfriend while I take care of it?” Sid offers, “We can get rid of that guy quietly and then you can either head out safely or rejoin the party once he’s gone?”
I consider it a moment, and look Sid in the eyes for a sign of duplicity or ill intent (shit, do I have trust issues?).
“Yes. Please. That would be great.” I sigh, finally.
CONTINUES ON NEXT POST
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Chapter 16 (Continued)
“I was just going to come find you! They’re gonna do keg stands and I’ve always wanted to try that!” Mikey says, bounding up from the den. Then he sees my face and Sid standing behind me, “What’s wrong, what happened?”
“Nothing. Er. Something. But let’s go upstairs. Like, now.” I say quickly, keeping an eye on the doorway near where I saw Brett.
Mikey looks concerned for a moment, then nods to me and Sid. “Ok. Let’s go.”
“Come on, we’ll use the back stairs.” Sid says, leading the way and Mikey taking up the rear. We snake through the crowd to a small hall that leads toward the backyard, but hang a quick left just before the french doors that lead outside. A narrow staircase rises up and around a corner and then down a hallway with dark wood paneling up half the wall and beautiful wooden doors running down either side.
Sid leads us into his room, and gestures toward his desk chair.
“I’ll head down. Dan and I will get rid of the guy. Don’t worry, we have protocols for exactly this situation.” Sid tells us, then heads out of the room and closes the door behind him.
Mikey holds my hand and looks at me, frowning.
“What guy? Did someone say something? Did someone touch you? If one of these frat douches fucked with you I’ll tear this place apart, I swear to fuck–”
“CHILL.” I say, “No one touched me.” I say (tonight, I think to myself, remembering the day I met Claire.)
“Then what the fuck is going on, Adam?” Mikey pleads with me. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you like this. What aren’t you telling me?”
I sigh. “It’s nothing. I’m just… there’s this guy. Just a bully. In my geology lecture. He says shit to me. Standard fucked up, homophobic, femmephobic shit. I just… I thought I could handle it. I always have before.”
“He’s here?” Mikey says, standing up and heading for the door.
“Don’t leave me alone.” I say quickly. “Please. Let the frat boys do whatever. Just stay with me.”
Mikey stops. Looking down at me, so sad. He sits down heavily on Sid’s unmade bed, which creaks in protest under his mass.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He says, looking at his enormous feet.
“I… fuck. I don’t know. It feels like decisions made by a different person now. I was afraid of how you’d react. Or wouldn’t react. But I didn’t know you then. Or I was making decisions based on the past. Or something. Fuck. I’m confusing myself”
“I’m not confused.” Mikey says abruptly, breaking me out of my trance. “I love you.”
Fuck. He said it.
“I love you too.” I say, feeling it with my whole body. “I was thinking it as I said all that. That it’s all different now. I’m different now. Whatever we do about Brett, we’ll do it together.”
“I could just beat him to a bloody pulp.” Mikey offers, muscles twitching. And I can see in his eyes he means it. Which is terrifying, but also… hot? Yes. Insanely hot. Is that bad? No time. Think about that later.
“Tempting, but I prefer you outside prison walls.” I say, getting up and crossing the gap to the bed. “Anyway, you can’t possibly make decisions right now. You’re too keyed up.”
“I am pretty drunk.” He replies, his eyes darkening as he looks me up and down, “And you dance very well.”
“Mmhmm,” I say, removing my lab coat and tossing it on the chair behind me. “Plus all that energy we built up painting your body.”
“Uuuuuungh. Fuck” He moans as I reach down and cup his monster bulge through the black stretch denim. “Kiss me.” He requests.
I climb on his lap, straddling his waist as best I can, take his face in my hands and kiss him hard. His hands roam wild on my back, finding the hem of my shirt and untucking. I gasp when I finally feel his hands on my bare back, pulling me close. I grind myself against his granite torso and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. He moves to my neck, kissing and nibbling and sucking as I moan and bounce myself on his lap.
“I wanna suck your cock.” He growls into my ear, then bites the lobe gently. Well fuck, I don’t need to be told twice. I stand up and start unfastening my belt when the door opens and Sid walks in.
“Oh! Shit! Sorry!” Sid yelps, politely covering his eyes as I fumble to get my belt buckled back up.
“Nope. Sorry! It’s your room.” Mikey says on our behalf. “So what’s up? What happened?”
“Dan and another brother are handling it. He was already making some people uncomfortable so I didn’t even mention you.” Sid says, handing us both bottles of water. “So now we just ride it out for a bit while they ask him to leave. Unless you two would like some privacy.”
“No. No. It’s fine. We’re just a little pent up.” I say, ignoring a subtle groan from Mikey. “Thank you again for your help.”
“Of course. You know if you guys want to keep the party going, I’ve got weed?” Sid says, smiling slyly and grabbing a bong off of his desk.
“Oh… shit. Um, I’m down. Adam?” Mikey says, surprising me entirely.
“Huh. I mean, I never have before…” I reply.
“You don’t have to.” Sid says.
“Zero pressure.” Mikey affirms.
“Honestly. More for us.” Sid laughs. “Or we don’t even have to. This room hot boxes fast.”
“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t.” Mikey bats back to Sid, a playful smile creeping in.
“Load the fucking bowl.” I say, rolling my eyes at them both. “And to be clear, your peer pressure game is awful. I was just planning on trying it anyway.”
…
Twenty minutes and one rough-as-fuck coughing fit later and I’m stoned for the first time ever. It’s kinda like being in a warm comfy bed on a cold morning, only I’m dressed. Well, less dressed than earlier. Buttons are hard to unbutton sometimes, huh? Mikey pulled my shirt out earlier and it was all bunchy so I just pulled it off, leaving me in a white tank top and my gray slacks. I also took off my shoes, at some point, it would appear.
Anyway. Mikey is saying something.
“What?” I ask him.
He and Sid just burst out laughing. At something. Me? Is it me? Rude. At least they’re both smiling and cute. So cute. Mikey in particular. I’m gonna kiss his face.
“I asked how you were feeling, but I’m guessing gooumph.” Mikey starts, but then I kiss the words into mush. He kisses me back, but also is laughing at something again.
Sid shakes his head.
“Welcome to being crossfaded, new friend.” He tells me. And I look at him and Mikey and realize they’re also totally stoned.
“Fuck. This is nice.” I mutter, “I haven’t thought about Brett in like, minutes. Tiny dicked fuckwit.” I say, then clap my hand over my mouth.
Mikey and Sid burst out laughing.
“He does have that vibe!” Sid yells, “Like he’s utterly furious with whatever dark god cursed him with 3 inches.”
“I still want to beat him up.” Mikey laughs, barely choking out the words around his wheeze-laughs. “Can I beat him up?”
“Oh you could definitely take him.” Sid says, looking Mikey up and down appreciatively. He lets out a low whistle. “Easily.”
“Mmmmhmm.” I say, reaching over and feeling Mikey’s epic bicep. He flexes it in my hand and I gasp a bit.
“Whoa. Fuck, dude, that’s huge.” Sid says.
I look up, expecting Sid to be ogling some part of Mikey’s rock hard anatomy, but he’s looking at me. Specifically at my crotch. I glance down and notice (not sure how I missed it, but here we are) that I am fully erect. The girthy rod pressed firmly against my thigh, torpedo head clearly defined under the light gray material of my slacks.
“Shit. Sorry.” I say, and I shift to try and hide it but Mikey’s huge hand slips down and cups it, stroking me even harder with a squeeze.
“I keep telling him it’s huge, but he doesn’t seem to realize. Mmmmm. Fuck. Stoner boners are the best, right?” Mikey says, his voice husky.
I look from him to Sid, and both of them have their eyes locked onto my diamond hard dick, which is now twitching feistily as Mikey strokes me. Fuck me, is this happening? I love the way Sid is devouring my cock with his eyes.
“Fuck, dude, it looks huge. I’m not small and I’m nowhere near that big.” He says, reaching under a pteruge, showing off a pair of tight, olive-green trunks. He squeezes a thickening shaft and my cock flexes automatically in Mikey’s hand.
“I was about to suck his big cock when you came in.” He tells Sid.
“I… uh… noticed that.” Sid says, relaxing back in his chair a bit, letting a hand rest on his meaty thigh. “You said you were feeling pretty pent up. I know how rough that can be. You’re welcome to pick up where you left off. I could just hang here and watch, if you’re ok with that?”
Mikey looks at me. “It’s ok to say no.” He says. “We’re pretty lit.”
“No, I want it. I want him to see it. I want him to see you, too.” I say, feeling absolutely crystal clear as I reach over and cup Mikey’s prodigious bulge, already plumped as far as the stretch denim will allow.
“Oh fuck yes.” Mikey says, pulling me to his kiss.
We’re on the floor by the bed with his long tree trunk legs sprawled out in front of him, so I straddle his nearest thigh. I slide up him, rubbing my aching shaft between us and pressing my leg to his growing mound. We make out in deep, slow, passionate kisses while I grind myself into him. Feeling his muscles tense and flex under my hands. I grip his shoulders for more leverage, press my body to his enormous pecs heaving with building breath. He growls into my neck and then gently but insistently pulls my tank top off over my head. I laugh as Mikey sits up and hikes my body further up his own, wrapping my legs around his waist. He gets one knee under him and rises to standing, carrying me with him like I weigh nothing.
He lays me down on Sid’s full size bed and looms over me, eyes dark with arousal, muscles twitching in anticipation. I know that look and I like these pants, so I undo my belt as quickly as I can before he can rip anything asunder. But he surprises me and caresses my legs through the material, looking at me with absolute reverence as he does so. He’s teasing my bulge with slow passes, coaxing it to throbbing ferocity. I see him glance over at Sid in his chair and smile. When I look over, I see Sid’s dropped his costume and is sitting with legs spread, his healthy hog in his hand. His eyes are locked onto my cock, pulsing in Mikey’s grip through my slacks.
“You wanna see it?” Mikey asks Sid.
He nods, a pleading look entering his eyes. “Yes, please.” He says huskily, stroking his cock from the base, pushing his snug foreskin down his drooling pink head. I’d say he’s a bit over 6 inches, nicely thick, and uncut. For a moment I think I’m really not that much bigger than him, what if he’s disappointed when he sees it? But fuck he looks hot watching us, worshipping.
I look back at Mikey and give him a nod. He unbuttons my pants and starts the zipper, slowly easing it down. My cock is pointed down in my boxer briefs, and the arc of my shaft pushes out through the opening. The bright pink modal fabric stretched tight by the force of my arousal.
“Oh fuck yes.” Sid moans, adjusting his position to see better. Or grip his cock better. Or both.
Mikey gives me a wink and my rising cock a squeeze and hooks his fingers into the waistband of both my pants and undies and slides them down. My cock springs free and slaps my belly with a loud smack.
“Fuuuuuck.” Sid moans.
I grip myself, holding my thick shaft up to show off the length. Fuck, I do look huge right now. Bigger than usual even. It feels so good to stroke myself after a long day of teasing and tantalizing. I look up at Mikey, who looks like a wolf about to devour a bunny.
“You want it?” I taunt Mikey, waggling my heavy piece and lifting my hips toward him.
He’s on me like a shot, kneeling on the foot of the bed and laying his massive rock hard bulk between my thighs. I lie back and put my hands behind my head, turning my face toward Sid so I can watch him stroke while Mikey takes my sizeable cock into his mouth.
Mikey wastes no time and licks me from nuts to head before plunging his face down and doing his best to take my entire length in one go. He gags and chokes a bit, then pulls off of me to the head and begins working the fat torpedo tip of my cock with his tongue before driving down and taking me into his throat again.
“Shit, babe, that feels so fucking good. You like this big cock?” I say, and feel the hum of his muffled reply against my shaft. I watch as Sid pulls his big bull nuts out of his trunks, tucking the waistband beneath his taint so the whole package gets a lift. “MM. Nice nuts, man.”
“Heh. Thanks. I cum like a cannon.” Sid replies, looking devilish.
“I fucking bet you do.” I say, watching the hefty orbs bounce with his strokes.
Mikey pulls off of my cock a moment and looks over at Sid.
“Fuck me, those are huge. Almost as big as mine.” He says appreciatively, cupping his massive bulge. I can see he’s fully hard now in his pants, tucked to his hip and fully threatening to force its way out over his waistband. He sees me looking at his shaft hungrily and gives me a wink. “Wanna flip over and fuck my face?”
“Fuck yeah!” I say, untangling our legs so Mikey can lie back on the bed, his head by the foot and his massive feet flat against the wall. I spin around and shuck the pants and undies from my ankles, then climb aboard my muscle giant and straddle his chest. My raging hard cock is now slick with spit and nestled right between his pecs, which he flexes in response and groans as he grips my ass cheeks in his face. I grind my cock into his chest and bury my face in his bulge. He guides me back and lifts my hips to get access to my pre-cum drooling dick. He takes me into his mouth and I gasp at the sensation from a new angle. He swallows me slow, showing me the path to thrust into his throat, and when I feel him relax a bit I start rocking my hips in the rhythm he established.
“Fuuuuuuuuck!” I moan as I writhe, bouncing my ass more and more as I pump my cock in and out of Mikey’s throat. His hands are wildly gripping my thighs, my ass, rubbing my arched back as I ride his face. I grab his monster cock through his pants and massage it as I buck, feeling myself building closer and closer, bucking wildly now as I fill his throat. I look over at Sid and he’s fully gooning in his chair, pre-cum streaming out of him like a faucet, jaw trembling as he mutters a silent ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’.
I slow my thrusts and catch my breath, Mikey’s hands slowing to match me. I pull my cock slowly out of his mouth, watching Sid’s jaw go slack as I reveal more and more of my hugeness, slick and shiny with Mikey’s spit.
“He’s ready.” I tell Mikey, climbing off and kneeling on the bed beside him. “Show him the beast.”
Mikey emits a low growl in reply, then swings his legs over the bed toward Sid, who stops dead and looks up as Mikey rises to his full height. He unbuckles his belt and wraps the buckle end around his wrist, then snaps his arms apart, pulling the belt out of every loop with a loud CRACK. He takes another step towards Sid and sidles his feet into a wide stance. He unbuttons the first button and a whimper escapes Sid’s lips.
“You like muscle? You like size?” I ask, standing up myself to get a view of Mikey and Sid at the same time.
Sid can only nod in silence as he stares up at the behemoth in front of him. Mikey pushes his pants down, leaving only black briefs. Fuck, his dumptruck ass looks amazing in those briefs. Even in this dim light I can see the material between the top of his mighty cheeks is see-through, stretched sheer by the powerful globes of his ass. He turns toward me slightly and I see his fat mushroom head peeking and pulsing at his hip. The insane girth of that massive shaft is not even fully covered by the thin strip of cotton and lycra holding it back.
Sid is almost hyperventilating as he tries to take in the sight before him. A towering muscle freak, painted greenish-gray from the waist up, dense pecs heaving, powerful arms tensing and twitching at his sides, sweat rivulets dripping down the cut crevice between his 8-pack, down to a jaw-cracking thick shaft, veins visibly pulsing beneath the material, giant kiwi-sized balls pushed forward by his seam-shredding thighs.
Mikey chuckles at Sid’s reaction, then silently reaches down and takes his briefs in his hands on either hip and steadily, slowly tears them to shreds, allowing his nearly foot long cock to bob and swing perpendicular in front of him.
“Hhhghungh.” Sid grunts, his cock flexing furiously, as though trying to cum hands-free. “Oh, fuck. Hold on. Not yet.” He grunts, trying to hold his edge.
I move to Mikey’s side, my own cock standing straight up between my modest four pack (huh, since when do I have that much definition?) I reach over and take his glorious god-cock in my hand, and stroke it slowly, encouraging it to absolute full mast. I watch Sid as his head spins from disbelief.
“Yeah. I know the feeling, buddy.” I say, kneeling down to worship Mikey’s epic member. I help him out of his tight jeans and briefs, still wrapped around his shapely calves. I get my nose under his big balls and jack his cock with both hands as I suck and nuzzle his nuts.
“Oh, babe, fuck, I need this.” Mikey moans, losing himself in my manipulations. I’m getting pretty good at finding his buttons, so I double my efforts and watch his knees wobble for a second. He shoots a hand up and grips the ceiling for balance, his palm flat to the plaster, bicep popped. The room floods with his smell, spicy, fresh sweat. making him even more imposing as he looms over us. Sid has tentatively started stroking again, clearly on the verge of exploding any moment, but also incapable of holding back from touching himself any longer.
“Guys, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last!” Sid stammers, eyes darting between huge cocks and heaving muscles.
“I’m close too.” Mikey tells me.
Well fuck, let’s light this roman candle. I get to my feet and Mikey and I both close in around Sid in his chair. We loom over him, both stroking madly.
“You fucking love these monster cocks, don’t you?” Mikey moans, his voice rough and breathing ragged. “So fucking big, fucking thick. You wanna feel this powerful cock pummeling your insides?”
“Fuck yes!” Sid yells, fucking his fist with pure abandon. “You’re so fucking massive! Biggest cocks I’ve ever seen! Oh, fuuuuuck!”
I see Sid’s heft nuts pull up tight to the base of his cock and he erupts, the first shot of his load a thick white rope of cum that splatters the underside of Mikey’s shaft. The next few shots are less bombastic but equally large. I feel droplets splatter across my legs and he shows no signs of stopping yet.
“Holy fuck! You weren’t kidding about being a cannon!” Mikey calls out, not missing a stroke as Sid’s jizz coats his monster fuckstick. He’s stroking lubed now and I see him swell to his absolute largest. He’s ready to pop. “Aw fuck, here it comes!”
Mikey blasts out a heavy load, even for him, spraying blast after blast all over Sid, who’s still shooting smaller blasts himself! The sight is too fucking much for me and I cry out as I climax, unloading my own healthy round of cum shots onto Sid. Sid revels in his mini bukkake moment, ropes of jizz dripping from his chin, splattered across his lightly furry chest, sprayed all over his tummy and legs. He chuckles in satisfaction.
“Holy shit, boys. That was very very hot.” Sid says, finally. Standing up and walking to his closet. He retrieves a stack of towels and hands them out to us. I clean myself up, then see Mikey is at a bit of a loss with how to clean the mess without cleaning his body paint and I take the towel from him and help. This also gives me an excuse to enjoy his monster softie a bit, which I clean with exacting attention to detail. Sid mops up his puddle on the floor with the practiced hand of someone who unloads by the quart on a daily basis.
“Say, Sid.” Mikey starts, picking up his tattered briefs from the floor. “Any chance I could borrow some underwear?”
We all burst out laughing.
“I was just going to come find you! They’re gonna do keg stands and I’ve always wanted to try that!” Mikey says, bounding up from the den. Then he sees my face and Sid standing behind me, “What’s wrong, what happened?”
“Nothing. Er. Something. But let’s go upstairs. Like, now.” I say quickly, keeping an eye on the doorway near where I saw Brett.
Mikey looks concerned for a moment, then nods to me and Sid. “Ok. Let’s go.”
“Come on, we’ll use the back stairs.” Sid says, leading the way and Mikey taking up the rear. We snake through the crowd to a small hall that leads toward the backyard, but hang a quick left just before the french doors that lead outside. A narrow staircase rises up and around a corner and then down a hallway with dark wood paneling up half the wall and beautiful wooden doors running down either side.
Sid leads us into his room, and gestures toward his desk chair.
“I’ll head down. Dan and I will get rid of the guy. Don’t worry, we have protocols for exactly this situation.” Sid tells us, then heads out of the room and closes the door behind him.
Mikey holds my hand and looks at me, frowning.
“What guy? Did someone say something? Did someone touch you? If one of these frat douches fucked with you I’ll tear this place apart, I swear to fuck–”
“CHILL.” I say, “No one touched me.” I say (tonight, I think to myself, remembering the day I met Claire.)
“Then what the fuck is going on, Adam?” Mikey pleads with me. “This isn’t the first time I’ve seen you like this. What aren’t you telling me?”
I sigh. “It’s nothing. I’m just… there’s this guy. Just a bully. In my geology lecture. He says shit to me. Standard fucked up, homophobic, femmephobic shit. I just… I thought I could handle it. I always have before.”
“He’s here?” Mikey says, standing up and heading for the door.
“Don’t leave me alone.” I say quickly. “Please. Let the frat boys do whatever. Just stay with me.”
Mikey stops. Looking down at me, so sad. He sits down heavily on Sid’s unmade bed, which creaks in protest under his mass.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He says, looking at his enormous feet.
“I… fuck. I don’t know. It feels like decisions made by a different person now. I was afraid of how you’d react. Or wouldn’t react. But I didn’t know you then. Or I was making decisions based on the past. Or something. Fuck. I’m confusing myself”
“I’m not confused.” Mikey says abruptly, breaking me out of my trance. “I love you.”
Fuck. He said it.
“I love you too.” I say, feeling it with my whole body. “I was thinking it as I said all that. That it’s all different now. I’m different now. Whatever we do about Brett, we’ll do it together.”
“I could just beat him to a bloody pulp.” Mikey offers, muscles twitching. And I can see in his eyes he means it. Which is terrifying, but also… hot? Yes. Insanely hot. Is that bad? No time. Think about that later.
“Tempting, but I prefer you outside prison walls.” I say, getting up and crossing the gap to the bed. “Anyway, you can’t possibly make decisions right now. You’re too keyed up.”
“I am pretty drunk.” He replies, his eyes darkening as he looks me up and down, “And you dance very well.”
“Mmhmm,” I say, removing my lab coat and tossing it on the chair behind me. “Plus all that energy we built up painting your body.”
“Uuuuuungh. Fuck” He moans as I reach down and cup his monster bulge through the black stretch denim. “Kiss me.” He requests.
I climb on his lap, straddling his waist as best I can, take his face in my hands and kiss him hard. His hands roam wild on my back, finding the hem of my shirt and untucking. I gasp when I finally feel his hands on my bare back, pulling me close. I grind myself against his granite torso and wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. He moves to my neck, kissing and nibbling and sucking as I moan and bounce myself on his lap.
“I wanna suck your cock.” He growls into my ear, then bites the lobe gently. Well fuck, I don’t need to be told twice. I stand up and start unfastening my belt when the door opens and Sid walks in.
“Oh! Shit! Sorry!” Sid yelps, politely covering his eyes as I fumble to get my belt buckled back up.
“Nope. Sorry! It’s your room.” Mikey says on our behalf. “So what’s up? What happened?”
“Dan and another brother are handling it. He was already making some people uncomfortable so I didn’t even mention you.” Sid says, handing us both bottles of water. “So now we just ride it out for a bit while they ask him to leave. Unless you two would like some privacy.”
“No. No. It’s fine. We’re just a little pent up.” I say, ignoring a subtle groan from Mikey. “Thank you again for your help.”
“Of course. You know if you guys want to keep the party going, I’ve got weed?” Sid says, smiling slyly and grabbing a bong off of his desk.
“Oh… shit. Um, I’m down. Adam?” Mikey says, surprising me entirely.
“Huh. I mean, I never have before…” I reply.
“You don’t have to.” Sid says.
“Zero pressure.” Mikey affirms.
“Honestly. More for us.” Sid laughs. “Or we don’t even have to. This room hot boxes fast.”
“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t.” Mikey bats back to Sid, a playful smile creeping in.
“Load the fucking bowl.” I say, rolling my eyes at them both. “And to be clear, your peer pressure game is awful. I was just planning on trying it anyway.”
…
Twenty minutes and one rough-as-fuck coughing fit later and I’m stoned for the first time ever. It’s kinda like being in a warm comfy bed on a cold morning, only I’m dressed. Well, less dressed than earlier. Buttons are hard to unbutton sometimes, huh? Mikey pulled my shirt out earlier and it was all bunchy so I just pulled it off, leaving me in a white tank top and my gray slacks. I also took off my shoes, at some point, it would appear.
Anyway. Mikey is saying something.
“What?” I ask him.
He and Sid just burst out laughing. At something. Me? Is it me? Rude. At least they’re both smiling and cute. So cute. Mikey in particular. I’m gonna kiss his face.
“I asked how you were feeling, but I’m guessing gooumph.” Mikey starts, but then I kiss the words into mush. He kisses me back, but also is laughing at something again.
Sid shakes his head.
“Welcome to being crossfaded, new friend.” He tells me. And I look at him and Mikey and realize they’re also totally stoned.
“Fuck. This is nice.” I mutter, “I haven’t thought about Brett in like, minutes. Tiny dicked fuckwit.” I say, then clap my hand over my mouth.
Mikey and Sid burst out laughing.
“He does have that vibe!” Sid yells, “Like he’s utterly furious with whatever dark god cursed him with 3 inches.”
“I still want to beat him up.” Mikey laughs, barely choking out the words around his wheeze-laughs. “Can I beat him up?”
“Oh you could definitely take him.” Sid says, looking Mikey up and down appreciatively. He lets out a low whistle. “Easily.”
“Mmmmhmm.” I say, reaching over and feeling Mikey’s epic bicep. He flexes it in my hand and I gasp a bit.
“Whoa. Fuck, dude, that’s huge.” Sid says.
I look up, expecting Sid to be ogling some part of Mikey’s rock hard anatomy, but he’s looking at me. Specifically at my crotch. I glance down and notice (not sure how I missed it, but here we are) that I am fully erect. The girthy rod pressed firmly against my thigh, torpedo head clearly defined under the light gray material of my slacks.
“Shit. Sorry.” I say, and I shift to try and hide it but Mikey’s huge hand slips down and cups it, stroking me even harder with a squeeze.
“I keep telling him it’s huge, but he doesn’t seem to realize. Mmmmm. Fuck. Stoner boners are the best, right?” Mikey says, his voice husky.
I look from him to Sid, and both of them have their eyes locked onto my diamond hard dick, which is now twitching feistily as Mikey strokes me. Fuck me, is this happening? I love the way Sid is devouring my cock with his eyes.
“Fuck, dude, it looks huge. I’m not small and I’m nowhere near that big.” He says, reaching under a pteruge, showing off a pair of tight, olive-green trunks. He squeezes a thickening shaft and my cock flexes automatically in Mikey’s hand.
“I was about to suck his big cock when you came in.” He tells Sid.
“I… uh… noticed that.” Sid says, relaxing back in his chair a bit, letting a hand rest on his meaty thigh. “You said you were feeling pretty pent up. I know how rough that can be. You’re welcome to pick up where you left off. I could just hang here and watch, if you’re ok with that?”
Mikey looks at me. “It’s ok to say no.” He says. “We’re pretty lit.”
“No, I want it. I want him to see it. I want him to see you, too.” I say, feeling absolutely crystal clear as I reach over and cup Mikey’s prodigious bulge, already plumped as far as the stretch denim will allow.
“Oh fuck yes.” Mikey says, pulling me to his kiss.
We’re on the floor by the bed with his long tree trunk legs sprawled out in front of him, so I straddle his nearest thigh. I slide up him, rubbing my aching shaft between us and pressing my leg to his growing mound. We make out in deep, slow, passionate kisses while I grind myself into him. Feeling his muscles tense and flex under my hands. I grip his shoulders for more leverage, press my body to his enormous pecs heaving with building breath. He growls into my neck and then gently but insistently pulls my tank top off over my head. I laugh as Mikey sits up and hikes my body further up his own, wrapping my legs around his waist. He gets one knee under him and rises to standing, carrying me with him like I weigh nothing.
He lays me down on Sid’s full size bed and looms over me, eyes dark with arousal, muscles twitching in anticipation. I know that look and I like these pants, so I undo my belt as quickly as I can before he can rip anything asunder. But he surprises me and caresses my legs through the material, looking at me with absolute reverence as he does so. He’s teasing my bulge with slow passes, coaxing it to throbbing ferocity. I see him glance over at Sid in his chair and smile. When I look over, I see Sid’s dropped his costume and is sitting with legs spread, his healthy hog in his hand. His eyes are locked onto my cock, pulsing in Mikey’s grip through my slacks.
“You wanna see it?” Mikey asks Sid.
He nods, a pleading look entering his eyes. “Yes, please.” He says huskily, stroking his cock from the base, pushing his snug foreskin down his drooling pink head. I’d say he’s a bit over 6 inches, nicely thick, and uncut. For a moment I think I’m really not that much bigger than him, what if he’s disappointed when he sees it? But fuck he looks hot watching us, worshipping.
I look back at Mikey and give him a nod. He unbuttons my pants and starts the zipper, slowly easing it down. My cock is pointed down in my boxer briefs, and the arc of my shaft pushes out through the opening. The bright pink modal fabric stretched tight by the force of my arousal.
“Oh fuck yes.” Sid moans, adjusting his position to see better. Or grip his cock better. Or both.
Mikey gives me a wink and my rising cock a squeeze and hooks his fingers into the waistband of both my pants and undies and slides them down. My cock springs free and slaps my belly with a loud smack.
“Fuuuuuck.” Sid moans.
I grip myself, holding my thick shaft up to show off the length. Fuck, I do look huge right now. Bigger than usual even. It feels so good to stroke myself after a long day of teasing and tantalizing. I look up at Mikey, who looks like a wolf about to devour a bunny.
“You want it?” I taunt Mikey, waggling my heavy piece and lifting my hips toward him.
He’s on me like a shot, kneeling on the foot of the bed and laying his massive rock hard bulk between my thighs. I lie back and put my hands behind my head, turning my face toward Sid so I can watch him stroke while Mikey takes my sizeable cock into his mouth.
Mikey wastes no time and licks me from nuts to head before plunging his face down and doing his best to take my entire length in one go. He gags and chokes a bit, then pulls off of me to the head and begins working the fat torpedo tip of my cock with his tongue before driving down and taking me into his throat again.
“Shit, babe, that feels so fucking good. You like this big cock?” I say, and feel the hum of his muffled reply against my shaft. I watch as Sid pulls his big bull nuts out of his trunks, tucking the waistband beneath his taint so the whole package gets a lift. “MM. Nice nuts, man.”
“Heh. Thanks. I cum like a cannon.” Sid replies, looking devilish.
“I fucking bet you do.” I say, watching the hefty orbs bounce with his strokes.
Mikey pulls off of my cock a moment and looks over at Sid.
“Fuck me, those are huge. Almost as big as mine.” He says appreciatively, cupping his massive bulge. I can see he’s fully hard now in his pants, tucked to his hip and fully threatening to force its way out over his waistband. He sees me looking at his shaft hungrily and gives me a wink. “Wanna flip over and fuck my face?”
“Fuck yeah!” I say, untangling our legs so Mikey can lie back on the bed, his head by the foot and his massive feet flat against the wall. I spin around and shuck the pants and undies from my ankles, then climb aboard my muscle giant and straddle his chest. My raging hard cock is now slick with spit and nestled right between his pecs, which he flexes in response and groans as he grips my ass cheeks in his face. I grind my cock into his chest and bury my face in his bulge. He guides me back and lifts my hips to get access to my pre-cum drooling dick. He takes me into his mouth and I gasp at the sensation from a new angle. He swallows me slow, showing me the path to thrust into his throat, and when I feel him relax a bit I start rocking my hips in the rhythm he established.
“Fuuuuuuuuck!” I moan as I writhe, bouncing my ass more and more as I pump my cock in and out of Mikey’s throat. His hands are wildly gripping my thighs, my ass, rubbing my arched back as I ride his face. I grab his monster cock through his pants and massage it as I buck, feeling myself building closer and closer, bucking wildly now as I fill his throat. I look over at Sid and he’s fully gooning in his chair, pre-cum streaming out of him like a faucet, jaw trembling as he mutters a silent ‘fuckfuckfuckfuck’.
I slow my thrusts and catch my breath, Mikey’s hands slowing to match me. I pull my cock slowly out of his mouth, watching Sid’s jaw go slack as I reveal more and more of my hugeness, slick and shiny with Mikey’s spit.
“He’s ready.” I tell Mikey, climbing off and kneeling on the bed beside him. “Show him the beast.”
Mikey emits a low growl in reply, then swings his legs over the bed toward Sid, who stops dead and looks up as Mikey rises to his full height. He unbuckles his belt and wraps the buckle end around his wrist, then snaps his arms apart, pulling the belt out of every loop with a loud CRACK. He takes another step towards Sid and sidles his feet into a wide stance. He unbuttons the first button and a whimper escapes Sid’s lips.
“You like muscle? You like size?” I ask, standing up myself to get a view of Mikey and Sid at the same time.
Sid can only nod in silence as he stares up at the behemoth in front of him. Mikey pushes his pants down, leaving only black briefs. Fuck, his dumptruck ass looks amazing in those briefs. Even in this dim light I can see the material between the top of his mighty cheeks is see-through, stretched sheer by the powerful globes of his ass. He turns toward me slightly and I see his fat mushroom head peeking and pulsing at his hip. The insane girth of that massive shaft is not even fully covered by the thin strip of cotton and lycra holding it back.
Sid is almost hyperventilating as he tries to take in the sight before him. A towering muscle freak, painted greenish-gray from the waist up, dense pecs heaving, powerful arms tensing and twitching at his sides, sweat rivulets dripping down the cut crevice between his 8-pack, down to a jaw-cracking thick shaft, veins visibly pulsing beneath the material, giant kiwi-sized balls pushed forward by his seam-shredding thighs.
Mikey chuckles at Sid’s reaction, then silently reaches down and takes his briefs in his hands on either hip and steadily, slowly tears them to shreds, allowing his nearly foot long cock to bob and swing perpendicular in front of him.
“Hhhghungh.” Sid grunts, his cock flexing furiously, as though trying to cum hands-free. “Oh, fuck. Hold on. Not yet.” He grunts, trying to hold his edge.
I move to Mikey’s side, my own cock standing straight up between my modest four pack (huh, since when do I have that much definition?) I reach over and take his glorious god-cock in my hand, and stroke it slowly, encouraging it to absolute full mast. I watch Sid as his head spins from disbelief.
“Yeah. I know the feeling, buddy.” I say, kneeling down to worship Mikey’s epic member. I help him out of his tight jeans and briefs, still wrapped around his shapely calves. I get my nose under his big balls and jack his cock with both hands as I suck and nuzzle his nuts.
“Oh, babe, fuck, I need this.” Mikey moans, losing himself in my manipulations. I’m getting pretty good at finding his buttons, so I double my efforts and watch his knees wobble for a second. He shoots a hand up and grips the ceiling for balance, his palm flat to the plaster, bicep popped. The room floods with his smell, spicy, fresh sweat. making him even more imposing as he looms over us. Sid has tentatively started stroking again, clearly on the verge of exploding any moment, but also incapable of holding back from touching himself any longer.
“Guys, I don’t know how much longer I’m going to last!” Sid stammers, eyes darting between huge cocks and heaving muscles.
“I’m close too.” Mikey tells me.
Well fuck, let’s light this roman candle. I get to my feet and Mikey and I both close in around Sid in his chair. We loom over him, both stroking madly.
“You fucking love these monster cocks, don’t you?” Mikey moans, his voice rough and breathing ragged. “So fucking big, fucking thick. You wanna feel this powerful cock pummeling your insides?”
“Fuck yes!” Sid yells, fucking his fist with pure abandon. “You’re so fucking massive! Biggest cocks I’ve ever seen! Oh, fuuuuuck!”
I see Sid’s heft nuts pull up tight to the base of his cock and he erupts, the first shot of his load a thick white rope of cum that splatters the underside of Mikey’s shaft. The next few shots are less bombastic but equally large. I feel droplets splatter across my legs and he shows no signs of stopping yet.
“Holy fuck! You weren’t kidding about being a cannon!” Mikey calls out, not missing a stroke as Sid’s jizz coats his monster fuckstick. He’s stroking lubed now and I see him swell to his absolute largest. He’s ready to pop. “Aw fuck, here it comes!”
Mikey blasts out a heavy load, even for him, spraying blast after blast all over Sid, who’s still shooting smaller blasts himself! The sight is too fucking much for me and I cry out as I climax, unloading my own healthy round of cum shots onto Sid. Sid revels in his mini bukkake moment, ropes of jizz dripping from his chin, splattered across his lightly furry chest, sprayed all over his tummy and legs. He chuckles in satisfaction.
“Holy shit, boys. That was very very hot.” Sid says, finally. Standing up and walking to his closet. He retrieves a stack of towels and hands them out to us. I clean myself up, then see Mikey is at a bit of a loss with how to clean the mess without cleaning his body paint and I take the towel from him and help. This also gives me an excuse to enjoy his monster softie a bit, which I clean with exacting attention to detail. Sid mops up his puddle on the floor with the practiced hand of someone who unloads by the quart on a daily basis.
“Say, Sid.” Mikey starts, picking up his tattered briefs from the floor. “Any chance I could borrow some underwear?”
We all burst out laughing.
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as we would say in Argentina: this is cine
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A-fucking-mazing!!!! What a story!!! @Humblebrag88 
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ah0715
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Dude. You came blasting out of the gate hot after a brief hiatus. Fuuuuuuuuuuuck me.
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I'd been edging these chapters for so long, it was a big release!
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Duuuude. FUCK. Worth the wait. You are such a great writer!!
Thank you so much for continuing this epic story. Deferred gratification is a great stimulant , thank you.
I am so happy to see my favorite story continuing! Another great set of chapters
The gratitude is all ours, I'm sure. Thanks for sharing this amazing story with all of us!
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