Custom Fit (MM story: college, muscle, bulge, size difference, and growth)
- Thread starter Humblebrag88
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To quote our narrator, Adam: Chef’s kiss 
Thanks for another great chapter!
Thanks for another great chapter!
Amazing work as always. Thank you for giving us more! That flip fucking scene was quite special; your portraying of it was inspired.
I hope to publish my own writing soon on here, the stuff I've been sending you a preview of. Stay tuned!
I hope to publish my own writing soon on here, the stuff I've been sending you a preview of. Stay tuned!
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That's great! I look forward to reading more!
For me that was def one of the hottest chapters to date. Looking forward for more!
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Great chapters! As always, I loved them.
Can´t wait to actually read the bully getting bullied by Mike
Can´t wait to actually read the bully getting bullied by Mike
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Chapter 18
The next morning I arrive 20 minutes early to meet Claire. I walked Mikey to his 9:30am Spanish Final and wished him good luck with a kiss and a discreet squeeze of his bulge through his jeans (he performs best when he feels huge and powerful, by his own admission). From there I checked the campus map on my phone and made my way across the wind-swept quad to Billingsley Hall, four stories of dour red brick and cream masonry. Now, sitting on a wide marble bench at one end of the lobby, I feel my stomach sink to my feet.
I don’t have a great history of bringing things like this to authority figures. Most are either unwilling to engage in direct confrontation or consider me the problem just for showing up and making their day harder. A few just outright told me to “man up” or some equivalent phrase. I start to panic a bit, and consider just texting Claire that I don’t feel up to it and bailing. I’m on the verge of making a run for it when my phone vibrates in my pocket with a text. I see it’s from Mikey.
“I’m up next for oral, made me think of you.” He writes, adding in devil and open mouth emojis. Another vibrate and I read, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Adam. I know how hard it is to stand up for yourself. You deserve to feel safe.”
Well, fuck. Now I can’t bail. I’m momentarily annoyed by Mikey simultaneously knowing me this well and possibly fucking up his final by texting in class.
“Thank you my love. Show that oral who’s boss!” I text back.
I look up and see Claire coming in from the cold in a heavy wool coat and pashmina scarf, a steaming travel mug in one hand. She smiles as she uses her free hand to unwrap herself from the emerald-green scarf and loosen her buttons.
“Colder than a witches tit today!” She says, leaning in for a quick hug. “You ready for this?”
“Um. Yeah, I think I am.” I nod confidently.
“Good. Let’s go save your grade.”
…
“I’m sorry, son. We’re not in the habit of giving students special treatment like this.” Professor Cordova sighs over his broad oak desk. “The syllabus clearly states that more than three missed lectures results in an automatic failing grade. You missed five lectures.”
“Well I only really missed four, and then I switched to the Thursday lecture, it just wasn’t recorded because the roll call hadn’t been updated.” I say, pointing to the note from the registrar proving that I switched lectures. He just sighs again and gestures absently at the papers in front of him. I continue trying to explain, “My labs are all complete, I got an A- average on the exams so far, if I were to pass the final–”
“I’m going to stop you there. This isn’t high school anymore, son. You can’t talk your way out of bad decisions. And I don’t have time, at this point in the semester, to bring the other boy in to sort out all this accusation nonsense. For all I know, this Brett made a few critical comments about one of your little outfits and you took it personally. If you don’t want negative attention, then I suggest dressing less garishly in the future” Cordova says firmly, an edge of exasperation entering his voice. “You’re simply going to have to take a failing grade and make it up next semester.”
I take a deep breath and look at my hands in my lap. I really wish Claire had come inside with me. Cordova’s receptionist insisted that since she wasn’t a student in the class then it would be “unhead of” for her to accompany me to an office hours appointment. I had to leave her outside, sitting in a wooden chair and staring daggers at the woman behind the reception desk. Fuck, this is going exactly as I’d feared. Every time I ask for help I get harm. I wish Mikey were here, too. I remember the text he sent me and shit:I DO deserve to feel safe. In a fucking classroom, on this campus, and beyond. And if this professor won’t help me to feel safe in his classroom, then I’ll go over his head. I’ve had enough. I feel a rising frustration welling up from my anxious stomach and before I know what I’m saying–
“I’m not your son.” I blurt out.
“Excuse me?” The professor says, looking annoyed.
“You’ve called me ‘son’ half a dozen times since I walked into your office. My name is Adam Bartok, as I told you when I came in.” I say, getting pissed. “I admit my decisions were not ideal. I should have told someone the moment he started following me around. Or using slurs. Or threatening violence.
“All of these things should have been enough to send me running to an authority figure for help, but I honestly expected my complaints to be received exactly as they are being received by you. So this is me telling you, right now, that I spent a semester feeling unsafe to enter your classroom.”
“Listen… Mr Bartok,” He starts, condescending tone building as he checks his watch, “I can tell you’re feeling emotional about this…”
“Actually I’m feeling quite pragmatic right now.” I continue, holding a hand out to indicate that I wasn’t finished talking (holy fuck, who am I right now?). “I’m alerting you to the issues that I experienced in your classroom, and I’m taking the time to be completely clear on your response and the course of action you’re recommending I follow.”
“Alright.” He says, sitting back and looking grim.
“So in response to my report of facing hate speech, intimidation, and threats of violence is to change the way I’m dressing, correct?” I say, pulling out a notepad and pen and writing down everything I’m saying.
“I never implied–”
“No, you suggested. Implied means subtext, this was stated outright.” I say, silently thanking my high school debate teacher in my head. “Just out of curiosity, if a female student had made a similar complaint in this same blouse, would you have made the same suggestion?”
“Enough.” Professor Cordova sighs at me. But he touched a button and I’m not quite done.
“A digression. Just something to think about. Now when you stated it was too late in the semester for me to have brought this up, did you mean that I have passed some kind of deadline for this type of complaint or just that you’re on vacation next week and would rather not have to think about it.”
“You’ve made your point, Mr Bartok.” He groans, throwing his head back. “I’ll need my secretary to get the forms for you to file a formal complaint.”
“I’ll make you an offer.” I interject, “Let me take the final. If I ace it, pass me. I’ll deal with Brett myself.”
“Really? After all that, you’re not going to file a complaint?” He asks, truly confused.
“I’m not feeling particularly confident in the systems this institution has put in place to protect me.” I reply, feeling vindicated. “Plus, I don’t think this bully will react the way we would hope.”
“And what if you get below an A on the final?” Cordova asks dryly.
“Flunk me. And I’ll take astronomy next semester instead.” I shrug.
He looks over his glasses at me, as if really taking me in for the first time. I picture myself from his perspective, reflexively. My upright posture on the wood and leather chair. My black and teal striped button front shirt peeking out from my fuzzy black cardigan, iridescent black pearl buttons gleaming. My defiant gaze, unflinching at his scrutiny.
“You have yourself a deal Mr Bartok.” Professor Cordova replies, extending a hand to shake, which I shake firmly.
“I appreciate you reconsidering.” I say as I rise and gather my things, then “I hope the next garishly dressed person who walks in here doesn’t have to work quite so hard to merit the same level of respect.”
He nods at this, frowning. But says nothing until I’m almost out his door when I hear a stern but earnest, “Good luck, Mr Bartok.”
…
“Holy shit, tell me about the part where you call him a moron with your eyes again.” Claire gushes as we walk across campus arm in arm.
“I don’t know if I did that.” I laugh.
“Ok, I might be embellishing a little in my head. I am a writer.” She admits.
“It did feel amazing. I wish you could have seen his face when I held my hand up to stop him talking. There was a vein on his forehead I thought might burst.” I say, not exaggerating. “I have to say, half of the words that I used in there I learned from you. Thank you. For pushing me. For being there.”
“Anytime, darling!” Claire says, waving off my thanks but looking pleased. “When one of us is good at something and someone else is new at it, we help each other. It’s called having friends, and it’s basically the best thing humanity has invented.”
The last part she says in a tone that she reserves for statements that matter, so I take a moment to run what she’s saying through my head again. I’ve never had friends like the ones I’m making here. Or at least not since Mikey, when we were kids. I realize now that I closed myself off to people after that. And while I don’t feel shame about needing that as a kid, I’m certainly glad it’s fucking over.
“Wow. It’s huge.” I say as we approach the sports complex where the fitness center is housed (along with two pools, an indoor track, and a third of Mikey’s classes), “I’ve only actually been here once before. And it was around the back. And in the middle of the night.”
Claire stares at me with a mix of amusement and confusion.
“When we snuck in to fuck in the pool.” I remind her.
“I swear, you two will have fucked in every building on campus by graduation.” Claire muses, then pulls me into a hug. “I’m extremely proud of you. I’ll see you tomorrow at Psi Nu?”
I nod, and she gives me one more quick hug before turning on her heels and walking in the direction of the library.
“Love ya, bitch!” She calls over her shoulder as she goes.
“Love you, too!” I call after her. I’m still watching her go when a familiar voice startles me.
“I take it that things went well with your geology prof?” Mikey says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I feel his warmth and strength as he squeezes me tight and I lean into him, letting my giant man envelop me into his bubble. His ample mound pushes into the small of my back and his pecs make a pillow as he leans forward to kiss the top of my head.
“Um. Yes” I reply, realizing he asked me a question, “Eventually. It went a lot like I was afraid it would go, but I pushed back and he listened. Now I just need to get an A on the final.”
“Oh, is that all?” Sid jokes, stepping around into my view, opening his arms for a hug. “Can I get in there?”
“Fuck yeah, warm me up.” I reply, smiling through the shivers.
Sid steps forward and presses into our hug, tucking me neatly into the middle of a strong man sandwich. I sigh as I relax into the safety and warmth, then take a deep breath of our mixed scents (my cologne and cinnamon, Mikey’s clean skin and fresh sweat, Sid’s subtle blend of old spice and what he describes as “top shelf weed”). Fuck. I might be horny already. I feel Mikey’s bulge gain some weight and definition against my back, and my own cock starts to inflate, pressed right against Sid’s hip.
“Oh, hello.” Sid purrs into me, reaching a hand down to give my growing dick a gentle squeeze through the layers. “Fuck, dude, where you going to hide this thing in your workout gear?”
“I brought compression shorts.” I reply, patting my gym bag (formerly just my yoga bag, but hey, branching out). “I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I could get through a workout with you two without popping a massive boner.”
“Mmmmm. Massive.” Mikey growls into me from behind. “Shit, we should get inside before we decide to skip the gym and just go home and fuck.”
“I mean…” I start, sliding a hand back to give Mikey’s stiffening–
“No! You are not getting out of working out with me today, Adam. I will not be tricked with sex again!” Mikey says, breaking the group hug apart and pulling the bottom of his peacoat down to hide his arousal (or, try at least).
“So busted.” Sid says, shaking his head at me before turning on his heels and hiking his gym bag onto his shoulder to lead the march into the giant sports building.
Fuck. Well I guess we’re doing this.
…
The next morning I arrive 20 minutes early to meet Claire. I walked Mikey to his 9:30am Spanish Final and wished him good luck with a kiss and a discreet squeeze of his bulge through his jeans (he performs best when he feels huge and powerful, by his own admission). From there I checked the campus map on my phone and made my way across the wind-swept quad to Billingsley Hall, four stories of dour red brick and cream masonry. Now, sitting on a wide marble bench at one end of the lobby, I feel my stomach sink to my feet.
I don’t have a great history of bringing things like this to authority figures. Most are either unwilling to engage in direct confrontation or consider me the problem just for showing up and making their day harder. A few just outright told me to “man up” or some equivalent phrase. I start to panic a bit, and consider just texting Claire that I don’t feel up to it and bailing. I’m on the verge of making a run for it when my phone vibrates in my pocket with a text. I see it’s from Mikey.
“I’m up next for oral, made me think of you.” He writes, adding in devil and open mouth emojis. Another vibrate and I read, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Adam. I know how hard it is to stand up for yourself. You deserve to feel safe.”
Well, fuck. Now I can’t bail. I’m momentarily annoyed by Mikey simultaneously knowing me this well and possibly fucking up his final by texting in class.
“Thank you my love. Show that oral who’s boss!” I text back.
I look up and see Claire coming in from the cold in a heavy wool coat and pashmina scarf, a steaming travel mug in one hand. She smiles as she uses her free hand to unwrap herself from the emerald-green scarf and loosen her buttons.
“Colder than a witches tit today!” She says, leaning in for a quick hug. “You ready for this?”
“Um. Yeah, I think I am.” I nod confidently.
“Good. Let’s go save your grade.”
…
“I’m sorry, son. We’re not in the habit of giving students special treatment like this.” Professor Cordova sighs over his broad oak desk. “The syllabus clearly states that more than three missed lectures results in an automatic failing grade. You missed five lectures.”
“Well I only really missed four, and then I switched to the Thursday lecture, it just wasn’t recorded because the roll call hadn’t been updated.” I say, pointing to the note from the registrar proving that I switched lectures. He just sighs again and gestures absently at the papers in front of him. I continue trying to explain, “My labs are all complete, I got an A- average on the exams so far, if I were to pass the final–”
“I’m going to stop you there. This isn’t high school anymore, son. You can’t talk your way out of bad decisions. And I don’t have time, at this point in the semester, to bring the other boy in to sort out all this accusation nonsense. For all I know, this Brett made a few critical comments about one of your little outfits and you took it personally. If you don’t want negative attention, then I suggest dressing less garishly in the future” Cordova says firmly, an edge of exasperation entering his voice. “You’re simply going to have to take a failing grade and make it up next semester.”
I take a deep breath and look at my hands in my lap. I really wish Claire had come inside with me. Cordova’s receptionist insisted that since she wasn’t a student in the class then it would be “unhead of” for her to accompany me to an office hours appointment. I had to leave her outside, sitting in a wooden chair and staring daggers at the woman behind the reception desk. Fuck, this is going exactly as I’d feared. Every time I ask for help I get harm. I wish Mikey were here, too. I remember the text he sent me and shit:I DO deserve to feel safe. In a fucking classroom, on this campus, and beyond. And if this professor won’t help me to feel safe in his classroom, then I’ll go over his head. I’ve had enough. I feel a rising frustration welling up from my anxious stomach and before I know what I’m saying–
“I’m not your son.” I blurt out.
“Excuse me?” The professor says, looking annoyed.
“You’ve called me ‘son’ half a dozen times since I walked into your office. My name is Adam Bartok, as I told you when I came in.” I say, getting pissed. “I admit my decisions were not ideal. I should have told someone the moment he started following me around. Or using slurs. Or threatening violence.
“All of these things should have been enough to send me running to an authority figure for help, but I honestly expected my complaints to be received exactly as they are being received by you. So this is me telling you, right now, that I spent a semester feeling unsafe to enter your classroom.”
“Listen… Mr Bartok,” He starts, condescending tone building as he checks his watch, “I can tell you’re feeling emotional about this…”
“Actually I’m feeling quite pragmatic right now.” I continue, holding a hand out to indicate that I wasn’t finished talking (holy fuck, who am I right now?). “I’m alerting you to the issues that I experienced in your classroom, and I’m taking the time to be completely clear on your response and the course of action you’re recommending I follow.”
“Alright.” He says, sitting back and looking grim.
“So in response to my report of facing hate speech, intimidation, and threats of violence is to change the way I’m dressing, correct?” I say, pulling out a notepad and pen and writing down everything I’m saying.
“I never implied–”
“No, you suggested. Implied means subtext, this was stated outright.” I say, silently thanking my high school debate teacher in my head. “Just out of curiosity, if a female student had made a similar complaint in this same blouse, would you have made the same suggestion?”
“Enough.” Professor Cordova sighs at me. But he touched a button and I’m not quite done.
“A digression. Just something to think about. Now when you stated it was too late in the semester for me to have brought this up, did you mean that I have passed some kind of deadline for this type of complaint or just that you’re on vacation next week and would rather not have to think about it.”
“You’ve made your point, Mr Bartok.” He groans, throwing his head back. “I’ll need my secretary to get the forms for you to file a formal complaint.”
“I’ll make you an offer.” I interject, “Let me take the final. If I ace it, pass me. I’ll deal with Brett myself.”
“Really? After all that, you’re not going to file a complaint?” He asks, truly confused.
“I’m not feeling particularly confident in the systems this institution has put in place to protect me.” I reply, feeling vindicated. “Plus, I don’t think this bully will react the way we would hope.”
“And what if you get below an A on the final?” Cordova asks dryly.
“Flunk me. And I’ll take astronomy next semester instead.” I shrug.
He looks over his glasses at me, as if really taking me in for the first time. I picture myself from his perspective, reflexively. My upright posture on the wood and leather chair. My black and teal striped button front shirt peeking out from my fuzzy black cardigan, iridescent black pearl buttons gleaming. My defiant gaze, unflinching at his scrutiny.
“You have yourself a deal Mr Bartok.” Professor Cordova replies, extending a hand to shake, which I shake firmly.
“I appreciate you reconsidering.” I say as I rise and gather my things, then “I hope the next garishly dressed person who walks in here doesn’t have to work quite so hard to merit the same level of respect.”
He nods at this, frowning. But says nothing until I’m almost out his door when I hear a stern but earnest, “Good luck, Mr Bartok.”
…
“Holy shit, tell me about the part where you call him a moron with your eyes again.” Claire gushes as we walk across campus arm in arm.
“I don’t know if I did that.” I laugh.
“Ok, I might be embellishing a little in my head. I am a writer.” She admits.
“It did feel amazing. I wish you could have seen his face when I held my hand up to stop him talking. There was a vein on his forehead I thought might burst.” I say, not exaggerating. “I have to say, half of the words that I used in there I learned from you. Thank you. For pushing me. For being there.”
“Anytime, darling!” Claire says, waving off my thanks but looking pleased. “When one of us is good at something and someone else is new at it, we help each other. It’s called having friends, and it’s basically the best thing humanity has invented.”
The last part she says in a tone that she reserves for statements that matter, so I take a moment to run what she’s saying through my head again. I’ve never had friends like the ones I’m making here. Or at least not since Mikey, when we were kids. I realize now that I closed myself off to people after that. And while I don’t feel shame about needing that as a kid, I’m certainly glad it’s fucking over.
“Wow. It’s huge.” I say as we approach the sports complex where the fitness center is housed (along with two pools, an indoor track, and a third of Mikey’s classes), “I’ve only actually been here once before. And it was around the back. And in the middle of the night.”
Claire stares at me with a mix of amusement and confusion.
“When we snuck in to fuck in the pool.” I remind her.
“I swear, you two will have fucked in every building on campus by graduation.” Claire muses, then pulls me into a hug. “I’m extremely proud of you. I’ll see you tomorrow at Psi Nu?”
I nod, and she gives me one more quick hug before turning on her heels and walking in the direction of the library.
“Love ya, bitch!” She calls over her shoulder as she goes.
“Love you, too!” I call after her. I’m still watching her go when a familiar voice startles me.
“I take it that things went well with your geology prof?” Mikey says, wrapping his arms around me from behind. I feel his warmth and strength as he squeezes me tight and I lean into him, letting my giant man envelop me into his bubble. His ample mound pushes into the small of my back and his pecs make a pillow as he leans forward to kiss the top of my head.
“Um. Yes” I reply, realizing he asked me a question, “Eventually. It went a lot like I was afraid it would go, but I pushed back and he listened. Now I just need to get an A on the final.”
“Oh, is that all?” Sid jokes, stepping around into my view, opening his arms for a hug. “Can I get in there?”
“Fuck yeah, warm me up.” I reply, smiling through the shivers.
Sid steps forward and presses into our hug, tucking me neatly into the middle of a strong man sandwich. I sigh as I relax into the safety and warmth, then take a deep breath of our mixed scents (my cologne and cinnamon, Mikey’s clean skin and fresh sweat, Sid’s subtle blend of old spice and what he describes as “top shelf weed”). Fuck. I might be horny already. I feel Mikey’s bulge gain some weight and definition against my back, and my own cock starts to inflate, pressed right against Sid’s hip.
“Oh, hello.” Sid purrs into me, reaching a hand down to give my growing dick a gentle squeeze through the layers. “Fuck, dude, where you going to hide this thing in your workout gear?”
“I brought compression shorts.” I reply, patting my gym bag (formerly just my yoga bag, but hey, branching out). “I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I could get through a workout with you two without popping a massive boner.”
“Mmmmm. Massive.” Mikey growls into me from behind. “Shit, we should get inside before we decide to skip the gym and just go home and fuck.”
“I mean…” I start, sliding a hand back to give Mikey’s stiffening–
“No! You are not getting out of working out with me today, Adam. I will not be tricked with sex again!” Mikey says, breaking the group hug apart and pulling the bottom of his peacoat down to hide his arousal (or, try at least).
“So busted.” Sid says, shaking his head at me before turning on his heels and hiking his gym bag onto his shoulder to lead the march into the giant sports building.
Fuck. Well I guess we’re doing this.
…
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Chapter 18 (continued):
The men’s locker room at the fitness center is enormous. The ceilings are vaulted up at a steep pitch, with giant skylights facing a mostly gray sky. A single patch of blue shining bright through a break in the cloud cover, but it’s traveling fast on this blustery day, soon to be overtaken by gray. The rows of pale, institutional green lockers are tall enough that you can’t see guys in the next row over at all. So walking in we pass by little alleyways filled with dudes in various states of undress. I try to be respectful and keep my eyes on Mikey’s broad back as he strides through the space. He glances back at me and winks, wearing the smirk of a man entering his comfort zone.
Long, smooth steel benches run the center of each aisle, and Sid and Mikey pick an empty alleyway for us all to change and drop their bags side by side. It’s only been a few weeks and these two already clearly have a routine here. They pick lockers across from each other and chat over the bench as they dress down.
“What’s today, triceps and chest?” Sid asks, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his thick chest and sturdy shoulders.
“Yeah, but let’s mix it up. I wanna do biceps and back for Adam.” Mikey replies, unbuckling his belt and letting the buckle drop down onto his meaty bulge.
“Don’t mess up your routine on my account,” I say, trying to quickly change from an outfit that a straight man (I mean, I assume Professor Cordova is straight) called garrish not 30 minutes ago. I carefully hang my shirt and sweater in the locker, then hurriedly pull on a faded purple t-shirt from my gym bag.
“It doesn’t mess anything up. And I think it’ll help relieve some sewing pain to build your back a bit.” Mikey says in encouragement.
“Trust him, Adam. He fixed my posture in three sessions.” Sid says, standing up straight as a demonstration. “You’re dating a genius. Just trust his process.”
“Alright,” I sigh, scanning the area for strangers before stepping out of my pants. I hang them up and turn back to my bag. Mikey pulls a pair of gray sweats up over his massive mound, which he has already stuffed into a snug black Bike jockstrap. Fuck he makes sweats look downright pornographic. Sid is wearing bright orange silky shorts that make his ass look utterly biteable. I take a deep breath and push my turquoise briefs to the floor, letting my soft cock and balls bounce free in the open air. Mikey glances over and smiles. Sid tries to be nonchalant. I feel myself blushing and quickly start pulling on my dull gray compression boxer briefs, hurriedly getting my junk out of sight.
“You’re ok. We won’t let anyone fuck with you.” Mikey says, low but clear.
“I mean, I might fuck with you. But so far you’ve been into it.” Sid jokes, making me crack a smile as I pull on a hand-me-down pair of white basketball shorts from Mikey. I have to tie the drawstring tight to make them stay on my hips, but at least I’m covered. I sit on the bench to swap socks and pull on my beaten up lilac colored Adidas sneakers and am startled when Sid and Mikey sit down close on either side with a plop. I glance between them and their matching stupid jock boy smiles.
“Holy crap, I get it!” I say, rolling my eyes so hard I worry about muscle spasms. “New experiences. Get out of my comfort zone. Trust my loved ones. Yeesh.”
“You belong here.” Mikey says, ignoring my deflection. “In this space. In this room. It’s a resource provided for all students. You are not trespassing. You, exactly as you are right this moment, belong here.”
I take a breath. Slightly frustrated.
“I know. You’re right. What you’re saying is totally true.” I start, tying my shoe as I work through the thoughts. “I just hope that everyone else here feels the same.”
“If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with us. Come on, I think you’ll actually like lifting.” Sid replies. “Plus, after we workout, I get to ride that big cock of yours.”’
I picture Sid sitting on my thick pole, his massive nuts bouncing as he writhes, Mikey stroking his monster beside my face and a shudder of pleasure rolls through me.
“Fuck, why didn’t you say that earlier?” I say, hopping to my feet and clapping my hands in mock impatience. “Come on boys, chop chop! These heavy objects aren’t going to lift themselves.”
“Hey Mikey!” A deep voice booms behind me and I freeze, “What the fuck is up, you fucking stud?”
“Hey Eli, not much. Biceps today, if you want to jump in.” Mikey replies, standing to do a jock handshake thing. You know, where it starts as a waist-height high five, but then grips into a half flex/half handshake. I turn to see if I recognize this Eli from the fraternity or something, and am struck by an absolutely beautiful face I’ve never seen before. He’s a Black guy our age, with a dark, rich complexion and warm inviting eyes. He’s wearing a light blue stringer tank that emphasizes an impressive set of pecs and massive shoulders. His breakaway track pants tease a nice, heavy bulge.
“Eli, this is my boyfriend, Adam. Adam, this is Eli, we had bio and health100 together.” Mikey says, slapping his broad hand onto my shoulder. Eli beams a bright smile and shakes my hand (notably more delicately then he shook Mikey’s). “Eli basically lives here.”
“Hey, we can’t all have a dedicated home weight room.” Eli says, then to me, “You’re the one who keeps this beast out of trouble, huh? That’s no easy feat. It’s good to meet you finally, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Great to meet you, too. I hope he’s been telling you the good stuff.” I chuckle. It’s kinda cool meeting people who’ve gotten to know Mikey separately from getting to know us together. Or maybe I just like being complimented by hot guys.
“Oh yeah, you’re his favorite topic. Other than protein, maybe.” Eli replies, then turns back to Mikey, “I wanted to warn you, you’re lurker is here today.”
“Ugh. No fun.” Mikey sighs, looking dejected.
“Seriously? I finally get to see this weirdo?” Sid chimes in.
“Wait, what’s happening? Lurker?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s this guy. He likes to watch me work out but he’s super weird about it. Like he hovers, uses machines after me, even if it’s not the day for him. Watches me in mirrors. That kind of thing.” Mikey explains, keeping his voice low and waving a hand to placate me.
“Don’t get us wrong, lots of people like watching Mikey work out.” Sid pipes up.
“I’m straight and I enjoy it.” Eli nods. “Hell, I learned some new shit watching this monster lift.”
“I get it. His home weight room is in my sewing room.” I say, playfully giving Mikey’s ass a squeeze and making him blush a bit.
“But there’s like, a polite way to do it and a creepy way to do it.” Sid explains. “And this guy is 100% creepy.”
“Like, I half expect y’all to find him hiding in your closet, level of creepy.” Eli confirms.
“They’re exaggerating. He’s harmless. He just… wants to fuck me. Or be me. Or maybe wear my skin like a wrestling singlet.” Mikey laughs. I stare at him with an eyebrow up. “Ok, he’s super creepy. I hear it now.”
“We’ll just avoid him. He tends to only lurk hard when Mikey’s working out alone. He avoids us in groups.” Eli assures me. “Should be a totally normal workout.”
And with that Sid, Eli and Mikey saunter out of the locker room together, me trailing behind like the little brother that mom made them bring.
…
The weight room is downstairs from the main gym (which is open and airy with high ceilings and rows of stationary bikes, treadmills, and smaller machines). No, we’re not going to be doing any of that today, not with these sexy meatheads. We descend into a long, low ceilinged room filled with weight racks, and giant machines that look like a cross between a sex swing and a construction scaffold. The people on this floor, mainly guys from what I’m seeing, are all pretty huge. I hear metal clanking and a chorus of grunts as we enter and the smell of man and sweat is strong in the air.
I glance to my left and see every inch of that long wall is covered in mirrors. I see myself trailing after my giant muscle man, and his jacked friends, and I feel immediately out of place. I might avoid glancing left for the rest of the day.
“Ok, we pair off and start with the back. Your biceps get a lot of work doing the back routine, so I like to start with my back so my arms don’t give out before my back does.” Mikey explains, “So I’ll walk you through the lat pull machine while the boys do T-bar rows and then we switch.”
“And I’ll learn most of those words at some point along the way. Cool.” I nod, ready for instructions.
“It’s easy. Straddle the bench, I’ll set your weight at 85 lbs and we’ll adjust if that’s too easy.” Mikey says, moving the pin to a high up placement. “We’re going to do 3 sets of 12 reps, ok? I’ll count you through.”
I nod and settle in, take a deep breath and start the motion. At first I think Mikey’s underestimating me because the weight feels easy to pull up and down. The machine glides and the weights fly up and I feel kinda like he must think I’m super weak to be getting a workout, but the longer I go, the more I feel my back and shoulders start to burn. By the third set I’m sweating and the bar wobbles in my hands once or twice.
Throughout the sets Mikey is both counting and adjusting. Showing me where to put my hands to target different muscles, explaining how to keep the motion smooth and not letting the weights rest fully during a set. He tells me how to avoid injury and when to listen to the pain.
“But it all kinda hurts near the end. How do I know if I’m hurting myself or just, you know, weak?” I ask, the last part kinda quietly. Mikey settles in for his sets, and I watch him drop the pin to a much higher weight, somewhere around 300 lbs.
“Well first off, you’re not weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” Mikey says kindly, not even straining while the massive weight glides effortlessly in front of him. “And in all sports, anything where you’re pushing your body, there’s what we call good pain and bad pain. Good pain is the ache of muscles working to be bigger, stronger. It’s like the dull throb after a long day. Bad pain feels like stabbing. Or the pain will shoot off from a point and travel down your leg or up your back. Tingling, numbness, pins and needles, all bad pain.”
“Huh. Muscle pain versus nerve pain.” I mutter, remembering something similar my dad told me after a particularly bad beating I took.
It’s a silly way to phrase it, since all pain is received by nerve endings, but it does make a certain kind of metaphorical sense. I think to myself, watching Mikey’s massive arms and back move under the tattered xxxl Godspeed You! Black Emperor band sweatshirt (which he calls his “swole cover”, as if you could cover those massive muscles). I try to tell myself to pay attention to his form, but his biceps are rising into full peaks with each pull and his lats are spread like when he’s looming over me pounding my ass and holy fuck am I glad for these compression boxer briefs. (White shorts? What was I thinking?)
Mikey finishes his sets and we switch again on the lat pull machine, this time Mikey places my hands gripping inwards, and further out on the bar. My back is on fire, but it’s an all around ache and nothing feels stabby or twitchy, so I keep pushing. I push past the pain and am surprised to see the weights keep rising and falling steadily. I feel sweat start to collect in the small of my back, and each push takes a little more effort. I realize I want to make Mikey proud, and a big part of me wants to be able to experience this thing he loves so much. But I also think I might be starting to get it. Watching his muscles pump and work also kinda makes me want to get bigger. Or stronger. Both? And I find myself a bit surprised at what my body is capable of.
“Yeah, you’ve got it. 3 more. 2. One more push. And done!” Mikey says enthusiastically.
“Shit, kid, nice form.” Sid says, sauntering up with Eli as I climb off the bench.
“Thank you. I’m very athletic.” I reply smiling.
“Fuck yeah, you are. Now let’s do more!” Mikey says, bouncing on his heels and gesturing toward the scary-looking barbell contraption our friends were just using. “Time for T-bar rows!”
“Be sure to check out his bulge when he does those.” Sid whispers to me as we pass, doing a chef’s kiss motion.
“He’s right, I love these a lot for just that reason.” Mikey admits as he adds weights to the T-bar, surprising me that he was able to hear Sid. “I’m going to do these first cuz they’re a bit tricky.”
He places his hands, showing me the shape and placement, bends his knees and I see exactly what Sid means. His massive meat is sandwiched between thick thighs and the gray sweats are making me sweat.
“Mmm.” Mikey grunts as he pulls the weight toward his chest, glancing up and seeing me eye his body hungrily. He drops his voice low and husky as he continues to lift. “Fuck yeah. I love my bulge. Love feeling it (grunt) stretch and fill my clothes. Fuck. I love the way it (grunt) moves with me. So (grunt) fucking huge.”
“Holy shit.” I say, feeling my cock inflate to full attention, snaking up and across my hip, held tight to me by the compression. I glance over my shoulder and when I feel like no one’s watching I give it a squeeze and flex for Mikey. His eyes light up fiercely, but then I get self conscious and tug on the hem of my t-shirt to try and cover my throbbing cock.
“Come on.” He says, lowering the weight and rising to his full height. I can see his mound has gained some weight and definition during his sets. He pulls his old hoodie over his head, exposing his chiseled abs for moment, before tugging his tank black top back down and handing me his swole cover with a wink. I put it on as he changes the plates on the bar. “Your turn.”
The men’s locker room at the fitness center is enormous. The ceilings are vaulted up at a steep pitch, with giant skylights facing a mostly gray sky. A single patch of blue shining bright through a break in the cloud cover, but it’s traveling fast on this blustery day, soon to be overtaken by gray. The rows of pale, institutional green lockers are tall enough that you can’t see guys in the next row over at all. So walking in we pass by little alleyways filled with dudes in various states of undress. I try to be respectful and keep my eyes on Mikey’s broad back as he strides through the space. He glances back at me and winks, wearing the smirk of a man entering his comfort zone.
Long, smooth steel benches run the center of each aisle, and Sid and Mikey pick an empty alleyway for us all to change and drop their bags side by side. It’s only been a few weeks and these two already clearly have a routine here. They pick lockers across from each other and chat over the bench as they dress down.
“What’s today, triceps and chest?” Sid asks, pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his thick chest and sturdy shoulders.
“Yeah, but let’s mix it up. I wanna do biceps and back for Adam.” Mikey replies, unbuckling his belt and letting the buckle drop down onto his meaty bulge.
“Don’t mess up your routine on my account,” I say, trying to quickly change from an outfit that a straight man (I mean, I assume Professor Cordova is straight) called garrish not 30 minutes ago. I carefully hang my shirt and sweater in the locker, then hurriedly pull on a faded purple t-shirt from my gym bag.
“It doesn’t mess anything up. And I think it’ll help relieve some sewing pain to build your back a bit.” Mikey says in encouragement.
“Trust him, Adam. He fixed my posture in three sessions.” Sid says, standing up straight as a demonstration. “You’re dating a genius. Just trust his process.”
“Alright,” I sigh, scanning the area for strangers before stepping out of my pants. I hang them up and turn back to my bag. Mikey pulls a pair of gray sweats up over his massive mound, which he has already stuffed into a snug black Bike jockstrap. Fuck he makes sweats look downright pornographic. Sid is wearing bright orange silky shorts that make his ass look utterly biteable. I take a deep breath and push my turquoise briefs to the floor, letting my soft cock and balls bounce free in the open air. Mikey glances over and smiles. Sid tries to be nonchalant. I feel myself blushing and quickly start pulling on my dull gray compression boxer briefs, hurriedly getting my junk out of sight.
“You’re ok. We won’t let anyone fuck with you.” Mikey says, low but clear.
“I mean, I might fuck with you. But so far you’ve been into it.” Sid jokes, making me crack a smile as I pull on a hand-me-down pair of white basketball shorts from Mikey. I have to tie the drawstring tight to make them stay on my hips, but at least I’m covered. I sit on the bench to swap socks and pull on my beaten up lilac colored Adidas sneakers and am startled when Sid and Mikey sit down close on either side with a plop. I glance between them and their matching stupid jock boy smiles.
“Holy crap, I get it!” I say, rolling my eyes so hard I worry about muscle spasms. “New experiences. Get out of my comfort zone. Trust my loved ones. Yeesh.”
“You belong here.” Mikey says, ignoring my deflection. “In this space. In this room. It’s a resource provided for all students. You are not trespassing. You, exactly as you are right this moment, belong here.”
I take a breath. Slightly frustrated.
“I know. You’re right. What you’re saying is totally true.” I start, tying my shoe as I work through the thoughts. “I just hope that everyone else here feels the same.”
“If anyone has a problem with you, they have a problem with us. Come on, I think you’ll actually like lifting.” Sid replies. “Plus, after we workout, I get to ride that big cock of yours.”’
I picture Sid sitting on my thick pole, his massive nuts bouncing as he writhes, Mikey stroking his monster beside my face and a shudder of pleasure rolls through me.
“Fuck, why didn’t you say that earlier?” I say, hopping to my feet and clapping my hands in mock impatience. “Come on boys, chop chop! These heavy objects aren’t going to lift themselves.”
“Hey Mikey!” A deep voice booms behind me and I freeze, “What the fuck is up, you fucking stud?”
“Hey Eli, not much. Biceps today, if you want to jump in.” Mikey replies, standing to do a jock handshake thing. You know, where it starts as a waist-height high five, but then grips into a half flex/half handshake. I turn to see if I recognize this Eli from the fraternity or something, and am struck by an absolutely beautiful face I’ve never seen before. He’s a Black guy our age, with a dark, rich complexion and warm inviting eyes. He’s wearing a light blue stringer tank that emphasizes an impressive set of pecs and massive shoulders. His breakaway track pants tease a nice, heavy bulge.
“Eli, this is my boyfriend, Adam. Adam, this is Eli, we had bio and health100 together.” Mikey says, slapping his broad hand onto my shoulder. Eli beams a bright smile and shakes my hand (notably more delicately then he shook Mikey’s). “Eli basically lives here.”
“Hey, we can’t all have a dedicated home weight room.” Eli says, then to me, “You’re the one who keeps this beast out of trouble, huh? That’s no easy feat. It’s good to meet you finally, I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Great to meet you, too. I hope he’s been telling you the good stuff.” I chuckle. It’s kinda cool meeting people who’ve gotten to know Mikey separately from getting to know us together. Or maybe I just like being complimented by hot guys.
“Oh yeah, you’re his favorite topic. Other than protein, maybe.” Eli replies, then turns back to Mikey, “I wanted to warn you, you’re lurker is here today.”
“Ugh. No fun.” Mikey sighs, looking dejected.
“Seriously? I finally get to see this weirdo?” Sid chimes in.
“Wait, what’s happening? Lurker?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s this guy. He likes to watch me work out but he’s super weird about it. Like he hovers, uses machines after me, even if it’s not the day for him. Watches me in mirrors. That kind of thing.” Mikey explains, keeping his voice low and waving a hand to placate me.
“Don’t get us wrong, lots of people like watching Mikey work out.” Sid pipes up.
“I’m straight and I enjoy it.” Eli nods. “Hell, I learned some new shit watching this monster lift.”
“I get it. His home weight room is in my sewing room.” I say, playfully giving Mikey’s ass a squeeze and making him blush a bit.
“But there’s like, a polite way to do it and a creepy way to do it.” Sid explains. “And this guy is 100% creepy.”
“Like, I half expect y’all to find him hiding in your closet, level of creepy.” Eli confirms.
“They’re exaggerating. He’s harmless. He just… wants to fuck me. Or be me. Or maybe wear my skin like a wrestling singlet.” Mikey laughs. I stare at him with an eyebrow up. “Ok, he’s super creepy. I hear it now.”
“We’ll just avoid him. He tends to only lurk hard when Mikey’s working out alone. He avoids us in groups.” Eli assures me. “Should be a totally normal workout.”
And with that Sid, Eli and Mikey saunter out of the locker room together, me trailing behind like the little brother that mom made them bring.
…
The weight room is downstairs from the main gym (which is open and airy with high ceilings and rows of stationary bikes, treadmills, and smaller machines). No, we’re not going to be doing any of that today, not with these sexy meatheads. We descend into a long, low ceilinged room filled with weight racks, and giant machines that look like a cross between a sex swing and a construction scaffold. The people on this floor, mainly guys from what I’m seeing, are all pretty huge. I hear metal clanking and a chorus of grunts as we enter and the smell of man and sweat is strong in the air.
I glance to my left and see every inch of that long wall is covered in mirrors. I see myself trailing after my giant muscle man, and his jacked friends, and I feel immediately out of place. I might avoid glancing left for the rest of the day.
“Ok, we pair off and start with the back. Your biceps get a lot of work doing the back routine, so I like to start with my back so my arms don’t give out before my back does.” Mikey explains, “So I’ll walk you through the lat pull machine while the boys do T-bar rows and then we switch.”
“And I’ll learn most of those words at some point along the way. Cool.” I nod, ready for instructions.
“It’s easy. Straddle the bench, I’ll set your weight at 85 lbs and we’ll adjust if that’s too easy.” Mikey says, moving the pin to a high up placement. “We’re going to do 3 sets of 12 reps, ok? I’ll count you through.”
I nod and settle in, take a deep breath and start the motion. At first I think Mikey’s underestimating me because the weight feels easy to pull up and down. The machine glides and the weights fly up and I feel kinda like he must think I’m super weak to be getting a workout, but the longer I go, the more I feel my back and shoulders start to burn. By the third set I’m sweating and the bar wobbles in my hands once or twice.
Throughout the sets Mikey is both counting and adjusting. Showing me where to put my hands to target different muscles, explaining how to keep the motion smooth and not letting the weights rest fully during a set. He tells me how to avoid injury and when to listen to the pain.
“But it all kinda hurts near the end. How do I know if I’m hurting myself or just, you know, weak?” I ask, the last part kinda quietly. Mikey settles in for his sets, and I watch him drop the pin to a much higher weight, somewhere around 300 lbs.
“Well first off, you’re not weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know.” Mikey says kindly, not even straining while the massive weight glides effortlessly in front of him. “And in all sports, anything where you’re pushing your body, there’s what we call good pain and bad pain. Good pain is the ache of muscles working to be bigger, stronger. It’s like the dull throb after a long day. Bad pain feels like stabbing. Or the pain will shoot off from a point and travel down your leg or up your back. Tingling, numbness, pins and needles, all bad pain.”
“Huh. Muscle pain versus nerve pain.” I mutter, remembering something similar my dad told me after a particularly bad beating I took.
It’s a silly way to phrase it, since all pain is received by nerve endings, but it does make a certain kind of metaphorical sense. I think to myself, watching Mikey’s massive arms and back move under the tattered xxxl Godspeed You! Black Emperor band sweatshirt (which he calls his “swole cover”, as if you could cover those massive muscles). I try to tell myself to pay attention to his form, but his biceps are rising into full peaks with each pull and his lats are spread like when he’s looming over me pounding my ass and holy fuck am I glad for these compression boxer briefs. (White shorts? What was I thinking?)
Mikey finishes his sets and we switch again on the lat pull machine, this time Mikey places my hands gripping inwards, and further out on the bar. My back is on fire, but it’s an all around ache and nothing feels stabby or twitchy, so I keep pushing. I push past the pain and am surprised to see the weights keep rising and falling steadily. I feel sweat start to collect in the small of my back, and each push takes a little more effort. I realize I want to make Mikey proud, and a big part of me wants to be able to experience this thing he loves so much. But I also think I might be starting to get it. Watching his muscles pump and work also kinda makes me want to get bigger. Or stronger. Both? And I find myself a bit surprised at what my body is capable of.
“Yeah, you’ve got it. 3 more. 2. One more push. And done!” Mikey says enthusiastically.
“Shit, kid, nice form.” Sid says, sauntering up with Eli as I climb off the bench.
“Thank you. I’m very athletic.” I reply smiling.
“Fuck yeah, you are. Now let’s do more!” Mikey says, bouncing on his heels and gesturing toward the scary-looking barbell contraption our friends were just using. “Time for T-bar rows!”
“Be sure to check out his bulge when he does those.” Sid whispers to me as we pass, doing a chef’s kiss motion.
“He’s right, I love these a lot for just that reason.” Mikey admits as he adds weights to the T-bar, surprising me that he was able to hear Sid. “I’m going to do these first cuz they’re a bit tricky.”
He places his hands, showing me the shape and placement, bends his knees and I see exactly what Sid means. His massive meat is sandwiched between thick thighs and the gray sweats are making me sweat.
“Mmm.” Mikey grunts as he pulls the weight toward his chest, glancing up and seeing me eye his body hungrily. He drops his voice low and husky as he continues to lift. “Fuck yeah. I love my bulge. Love feeling it (grunt) stretch and fill my clothes. Fuck. I love the way it (grunt) moves with me. So (grunt) fucking huge.”
“Holy shit.” I say, feeling my cock inflate to full attention, snaking up and across my hip, held tight to me by the compression. I glance over my shoulder and when I feel like no one’s watching I give it a squeeze and flex for Mikey. His eyes light up fiercely, but then I get self conscious and tug on the hem of my t-shirt to try and cover my throbbing cock.
“Come on.” He says, lowering the weight and rising to his full height. I can see his mound has gained some weight and definition during his sets. He pulls his old hoodie over his head, exposing his chiseled abs for moment, before tugging his tank black top back down and handing me his swole cover with a wink. I put it on as he changes the plates on the bar. “Your turn.”
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Chapter 18 (continued):
So this is how today’s going to go. Fun. We move through the weight room from machine to free weights on a bench, back to a different machine then to the pull up bar (seriously the hardest thing so far). After I tap out I get a front row seat to the pull up competition and marvel at Eli’s effortless motions and impressive size. He’s about halfway between Mikey and Sid. Probably about 6’, 200 lbs? Maybe more, looking at those pecs. I may have started (ahem) researching bodybuilders in the last few months. It’s awesome seeing stoner Sid so focussed, working that solid upper body, but also showing off his lovely meaty thighs and bubble butt. And then there’s Mikey. Fuck, I knew he was strong, but seeing him lift and move around other jacked men makes it utterly clear that he’s in a whole different catergory.
The longer I’m here the more I start to enjoy myself. It’s hard to be anxious when there’s always something to do or at least something to watch closely. More guys start to come in for their workouts and true to Mikey and Sid’s predictions, they all just go about their business. Many even offer a bro nod as they pass. A few guys stop to say hi to the others. Mikey or Sid introduce me a couple times, always as Mikey’s boyfriend, and no one bats an eye. No one even seems to care that I’m smaller than everyone else.
After chin ups, we all take a moment to “regulate and hydrate” as Eli calls it, which apparently involves letting your breathing and heart rate settle down, but still stay in an active mode. My body is screaming and I’m dripping with sweat, but I feel fucking accomplished and horny and kinda giddy.
“How long have we been here? It feels like 15 minutes but also like a full afternoon? 4 hours? 2 days?” I ask the group, laughing. “There are no windows in here.”
“Ha! Yes. It’s been 45 minutes.” Sid says, checking his smart watch. “The time wonkiness is from the lifter’s high. Any intense exercise releases endorphins and endocannabinoids into your system.”
“Cannabinoids like in weed?” I snort.
“Yup.” Sid replies, handing me water. “Found in all animals and some plants.”
“How do you know this shit?” Mikey laughs
Eli asks, shaking his head and chuckling. “Have you even picked a major yet?”
“Nope! Undeclared and aimless. Just like my father always tells me.” Sid says with a twinge. Come to think of it, Sid almost never mentions his dad. His mom sends him care packages and postcards, and he always smiles when he talks about her, but this is the first time I’m hearing him mention his dad.
“Sounds like a hardass.” Eli says, “I feel you there.”
“You’re pre-med?” I ask Eli.
“Yeah, planning on getting my DPT.” Eli replies. “You’re in the Fashion Design program, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
“What do you design?”
“Mostly menswear. But I’ll need to learn everything.”
“Adam made Mikey’s swimsuit.” Sid says, a devilish grin crossing his face.
“Shit, seriously? Can you make me one?” Eli says as Mikey returns with dumbbells.
Apparently we’re finishing with bicep curls, which makes me feel like we’re in a 90’s teen show. We sit down on two weight benches that are facing each other in the free weights area, Mikey beside me and Sid beside Eli across from us. Eli shows me how to keep my elbows tucked close to my body, and where to reverse the motion. I feel a little silly curling 15 lbs while Sid curls 30s and Eli and Mikey 45s, but I laugh it off and just keep working. Trying my best to match pace with the other guys, and totally losing count in the process.
“I can totally make you a swimsuit.” I tell Eli. ”What kinds of cuts do you like?”
“Oh, we should definitely show off the goods. Honestly, I’ve always loved posing suits. Like for bodybuilders? Makes me feel enormous.” Eli says.
“Eli’s hung. If you haven’t already guessed.” Sid chuckles.
“I try not to make assumptions.” I say, then, “But I did notice a pretty hefty bulge today.”
“Yeah, I think it takes a certain level of confidence to shower with this guy three times a week.” Eli muses, nodding his head toward Mikey. “Most guys leave when this guy struts in.”
“Truth. If I didn’t enjoy the show so much I’d probably do the same.” Sid says, eyeing Mikey’s sweats-covered man meat. “Anyway, you’ll do some damage to some egos in that shower room yourself, Adam. Swinging that surprise thigh slapper.”
I feel my cheeks go hot with blood as I blush, and maybe a bit of a stir in my gym shorts.
“Aw, shit! Look at that blush. Adam must be packing some real heat.” Eli jokes.
Sid leans over and whispers something to Eli and then shoots me a wink. Fuck. Showers. They expect me to shower. Here. Among the jocks. I’m on the verge of panicking when I see Eli’s eyes shoot behind Mikey and me.
“Uh oh. Lurker on your 6, big man.” Eli says quietly.
“Fuck. That’s the lurker? Fuck. Um…” Sid whisper-screams, looking like someone just pulled the bench out from under him. Then a slightly urgent, “Adam, don’t turn around.”
“What? What the fuck does that mean?” I ask, totally looking behind me to see the worst possible scenario. I feel my stomach hit the floor as I see Brett stacking plates on the bench press bar, one eye on Mikey’s broad back. He hasn’t noticed me yet, as his attention is totally fixed on Mikey.
I’ve always hated the cliche that all homophobes are secretly gay and lashing out because of their suppressed desires. Mostly because I hate my bullies, and would prefer they not be lumped together with the gay people they torment. I’d honestly never thought of Brett as a closet case, but in this moment watching him watch Mikey, I can see him perfectly for who he is. A coward, too terrified to be what I am every day of my life. I turn back, take a deep breath, and fucking feel my brain snap. I exhale, and feel the initial shock and fear leave my body completely. I look over to my side and see Mikey, a deeply concerned expression on his face.
“That’s him, isn’t it? That’s Brett.” He says, a coldness entering his eyes.
I smile, simply, easily. And nod yes. Mikey immediately goes to stand up and I grab his hand, pulling him gently back down to the bench.
“What am I missing?” Eli asks Sid.
“That guy’s been bullying Adam all year. Fucking nightmare fuel.” Sid whispers.
“Fuck.” Eli replies, then turning to me, with a grin, “Want us to fuck him up?”
“Actually, no.” I reply, “I think I have a better idea. Mikey, go offer him a spot.”
“Um. What?” Mikey asks, baffled.
“I’m sick and tired of this shit. I have a theory I’d like to prove and I think it might be what I need to end this. My way.” I explain, then subtly slide my hand down to Mikey’s big shaft, giving it a squeeze through his gear, “So go park this huge cock right above his face as he struggles to impress you, then out lift him and make him watch. Sid, can you get a good angle to film this on your phone?”
Sid nods, clearly understanding my plan. Eli looks puzzled.
“Come on, you’re with me.” Sid says to Eli, dragging him toward a machine I don’t know and whispering along the way.
“You sure about this? Mikey asks, looking troubled. “I really just wanna rearrange his face and run him off campus.”
“Oh no, babe. This guy’s so deep in the closet he’s having tea with Mr Tumnus. I want to see you out size him in every way. I want to see his image of himself completely torn down in the face of a real man.” I say low and husky into Mikey’s ear. “Show him. Dominate him.”
The smile that creeps into Mikey’s expression can only be described as demonic. I see his pupils grow huge with arousal at the thought of putting this fucker in his place, and I feel my own cock plump at the thought. I’m still wearing Mikey’s swole cover, so I pull the hood up and turn to face the direction Brett is setting up his bench press. I’ve got a good view from here and Brett still hasn’t clocked me. He’s only about 20 feet away but with the hoodie (and maybe the fact that I’ve never showed up here before) he hasn’t given me a second glance.
Mikey gets up, drops his 45 lb dumbbell on the rack, adjusts his junk for optimal size and walks confidently up to Brett as he sits on the bench.
“Hey man, you need a spot?” Mikey offers, already looming in front of my harasser.
I see Brett’s eyes go wide as the hulking behemoth saunters up. Brett is tall at 6’ 2” and what I would call beefy at about 175lbs, but beside Mikey he looks fucking puny to me. And from the look of Brett’s face, he’s feeling the same. I see his eyes shoot from Mikey’s enormous mound to his pecs to his handsome face and he stumbles a bit with his words. He’s usually all dick swagger and sneers, but squared up with Mikey he’s deflating in front of me.
“Uh, yeah man, that’d be great.” He stutters out in reply, looking up at my boyfriend with a mix of awe and determination.
“Cool. How many reps?” Mikey says with an easy smile. Moving into position at the head of the bench.
“10.” Brett says, trying to sound confident as he slides back into place, his face directly under Mikey’s prodigious crotch.
I see him look right at it, then adjust his hips on the bench a bit, maybe trying to make his own bulge look bigger? I never really noticed Brett’s bulge before, but in bench press it’s hard to hide what you’re working with. He looks average. Utterly average. Not small by normal standards, but absolutely dwarfed by Mikey’s epic cock and huge balls. Fuck, it looks like I’d be outsizing him quite a bit, unless he’s a championship grower. I find myself curling a bit faster as I watch everything play out. Fuck, does being horny make you workout harder? That would explain a lot about Mikey.
“Alright, let me know when you’re ready for me.” Mikey says, bending his knees and placing his hands in alternating positions between Brett’s. His legs nearly brushing Brett’s ears.
Bret starts the set and Mikey easily assists the bar into the air. Brett starts to pump the bar up and down smoothly, and Mikey starts his count.
“Three, doing good there, big guy. Five, you got this. Two more.” Mikey counts out, hovering his hands but letting Brett do the work. The bar begins to slow a bit on the last two, and Brett pushes his pelvis up for leverage. “Come on, nice and easy. One more.”
Brett pushes to 10, then tries for another, struggling through. He’s visibly sweating, clearly trying to hold his own but coming up hard against his limitations.
“Yup, push it. Go further. You want to be big, don’t you? You want real size, you gotta work for it.” Mikey says, voice dropping as Brett struggles with the final push to twelve, Brett’s eyes locked on the massive bulge looming over him. “You got any more in you, or are you spent?”
“One–Mmphf–one more.” Brett grunts, struggling for breath, veins rising in his neck and chest as he dips back down for one more lift.
“Alright, man, make it count.” Mikey says, bending his knees a bit more and hovering his hands, heavily implying a lack of confidence in Brett’s words. Also, incidentally, bouncing his hefty manhood in Brett’s face. Fuck I love my man.
Brett starts to push, get’s about a third of the way up, pauses… and then the bar starts to dip again. Mikey reaches out and puts two fingers of one hand under the bar and looks down his pecs into Brett’s eyes. I can see the struggle in his face as his pride prevents him from asking for help, but he’s clearly overwhelmed. For a split second I see the bar drop and I freeze. Mikey’s hands quickly and smoothly take the bar in an alternate grip and lift it effortlessly back into the J cups. He takes it so fas,t that for a moment he’s lifting Brett himself off of the bench, and his nose comes within grazing distance of Mikey’s balls.
“Nice, man. Really pushing your limits is the only past those plateaus.” Mikey says looking down at Brett from above as he catches his breath, still splayed out beneath the hulking muscle god. “You got it left in you to spot me?”
“Uh, yeah, of course.” Brett says so low I can barely hear him.
He sits up on the bench, tilting his head slightly to avoid bumping Mikey’s bulge on the way up. Mikey smirks as he grabs a few more plates and starts adding them on to the bar while Brett quickly cleans up the sweat slick on the bench. I watch Mikey add a big plate and another smaller plate to both sides of the bar and Brett’s eyes go wide at the final weight (I can’t see the numbers, but I’d estimate Mikey’s about to bench a little over 300lbs).
“How many, um, how many reps?” Brett says.
“Let’s go for 12.” Mikey says, peeling his tank top off and tossing it to Brett before plopping down on the bench and getting into position.
When Mikey lays flat my own eyes instinctually go to his epic bulge. I love how it looks and moves during bench press and today he’s in rare form. Obviously feeling turned on by putting this fucker in his place, his gray sweats are essentially painted to his unit. Even from here I can see the arc of his shaft tucked down and over the swell of his massive nuts. He arches his back and the whole thing rises and wobbles, leaving nothing to the imagination. I glance back at Brett and his eyes are locked to it, a mixture of lust and awe etched on his face. He’s not even doing his job as a spot, he’s so entranced, but Mikey doesn’t give a fuck, and easily lifts the bar without a spot.
Mikey starts pushing smoothly and evenly, making the weight float above him in a clear meter. Brett starts a count, his voice low and trembling, but he trails off as Mikey powers through the set. He comfortably cranks out the full set in no time, but then just keeps pumping. The weight rising faster as he pushes, veins popping up all over his naked torso, back arched as he grunts.
“MMM. Fuck yes.” Mikey grunts in satisfaction, “Fucking huge.”
Fuck, I can feel the energy radiating off him from where I’m sitting, and I know firsthand what Brett is experiencing; watching the muscular beast demonstrate pure, unbridled power up close is as terrifying as it is erotic. Mikey’s grunts intensify as he pushes himself, and I see his mammoth cock begin to inflate as he watches Brett cower and shrink in the face of such strength. Mikey’s pecs are pumping larger and larger, his nips hard, sweat sheen building as he cranks out more and more reps. His grunts are getting obscene. Not loud, just overtly sexual. His cock flexes and grows out along his hip, tenting one side of his gray sweats. I just know Brett can see the fat vein that snakes across the top of Mikey’s epic shaft, and I can even see his fat mushroom head through the material from across the room.
Brett’s jaw drops as Mikey explodes with power and pure masculinity. He takes a step back, not even thinking about spotting, just lost in shock as this hulking monster gets the pump of a lifetime in front of him. I glance down and see that Brett is fully erect in his gym shorts, a rock hard tent pitched right in the open. He’s breathing heavier, matching pace with Mikey’s pushes. I’ve totally lost count of his reps (I stopped curling the moment Mikey started going super saiyan).
Mikey pushes a few more, back arched, massive cock flexing on his hip, every muscle flexed and every vein raised and pumping. I watch Brett feel each grunt as Mikey pushes out one… more… rep. Brett’s body spasms, his cock pulsing visibly through his gym shorts, a large wet spot at the apex of his tent, growing larger with each pulse of his cock. His shorts are red and the contrast makes it unmistakable. He came. Spontaneously. Just from watching.
The fog of lust leaves his eyes and he hurries to cover himself, grabbing his towel and holding it in front of him, but it’s too late. I hadn’t noticed, but Mikey drew a bit of an audience. A few guys are gathered, waiting to high five Mikey, and all of them see what just happened in Brett’s pants. They start to snicker. One guy whispers to another. I see Sid is filming, a huge grin on his face. Brett mumbles something and starts walking fast out of the weight room and up the stairs and out of sight. Mikey sits up, sweaty and massive, pumped muscles twitching. He turns to me slowly and I see a wicked grin cross his face.
He wipes down the machine, high fives a few friends, then walks over to me. The sight of him walking toward me (massive cock slightly softened, bouncing free from his jock in the front of his sweats, shirtless muscles pumped and glistening with sweat,) makes me painfully aware of my own erection, mercifully strapped down to my thigh by the compression shorts. I stand up and he pulls me further off my feet into a kiss, his lips strong and breath heavy. He kisses me so hard my head spins a bit. I’m vaguely aware of the sounds of Sid and Eli walking up behind Mikey, and he breaks the kiss and sets me down on my feet.
“So,” Mikey says, looking down at me with a sparkle in his eyes, “let’s hit the showers.”
So this is how today’s going to go. Fun. We move through the weight room from machine to free weights on a bench, back to a different machine then to the pull up bar (seriously the hardest thing so far). After I tap out I get a front row seat to the pull up competition and marvel at Eli’s effortless motions and impressive size. He’s about halfway between Mikey and Sid. Probably about 6’, 200 lbs? Maybe more, looking at those pecs. I may have started (ahem) researching bodybuilders in the last few months. It’s awesome seeing stoner Sid so focussed, working that solid upper body, but also showing off his lovely meaty thighs and bubble butt. And then there’s Mikey. Fuck, I knew he was strong, but seeing him lift and move around other jacked men makes it utterly clear that he’s in a whole different catergory.
The longer I’m here the more I start to enjoy myself. It’s hard to be anxious when there’s always something to do or at least something to watch closely. More guys start to come in for their workouts and true to Mikey and Sid’s predictions, they all just go about their business. Many even offer a bro nod as they pass. A few guys stop to say hi to the others. Mikey or Sid introduce me a couple times, always as Mikey’s boyfriend, and no one bats an eye. No one even seems to care that I’m smaller than everyone else.
After chin ups, we all take a moment to “regulate and hydrate” as Eli calls it, which apparently involves letting your breathing and heart rate settle down, but still stay in an active mode. My body is screaming and I’m dripping with sweat, but I feel fucking accomplished and horny and kinda giddy.
“How long have we been here? It feels like 15 minutes but also like a full afternoon? 4 hours? 2 days?” I ask the group, laughing. “There are no windows in here.”
“Ha! Yes. It’s been 45 minutes.” Sid says, checking his smart watch. “The time wonkiness is from the lifter’s high. Any intense exercise releases endorphins and endocannabinoids into your system.”
“Cannabinoids like in weed?” I snort.
“Yup.” Sid replies, handing me water. “Found in all animals and some plants.”
“How do you know this shit?” Mikey laughs
Eli asks, shaking his head and chuckling. “Have you even picked a major yet?”
“Nope! Undeclared and aimless. Just like my father always tells me.” Sid says with a twinge. Come to think of it, Sid almost never mentions his dad. His mom sends him care packages and postcards, and he always smiles when he talks about her, but this is the first time I’m hearing him mention his dad.
“Sounds like a hardass.” Eli says, “I feel you there.”
“You’re pre-med?” I ask Eli.
“Yeah, planning on getting my DPT.” Eli replies. “You’re in the Fashion Design program, right?”
“Mmhmm.”
“What do you design?”
“Mostly menswear. But I’ll need to learn everything.”
“Adam made Mikey’s swimsuit.” Sid says, a devilish grin crossing his face.
“Shit, seriously? Can you make me one?” Eli says as Mikey returns with dumbbells.
Apparently we’re finishing with bicep curls, which makes me feel like we’re in a 90’s teen show. We sit down on two weight benches that are facing each other in the free weights area, Mikey beside me and Sid beside Eli across from us. Eli shows me how to keep my elbows tucked close to my body, and where to reverse the motion. I feel a little silly curling 15 lbs while Sid curls 30s and Eli and Mikey 45s, but I laugh it off and just keep working. Trying my best to match pace with the other guys, and totally losing count in the process.
“I can totally make you a swimsuit.” I tell Eli. ”What kinds of cuts do you like?”
“Oh, we should definitely show off the goods. Honestly, I’ve always loved posing suits. Like for bodybuilders? Makes me feel enormous.” Eli says.
“Eli’s hung. If you haven’t already guessed.” Sid chuckles.
“I try not to make assumptions.” I say, then, “But I did notice a pretty hefty bulge today.”
“Yeah, I think it takes a certain level of confidence to shower with this guy three times a week.” Eli muses, nodding his head toward Mikey. “Most guys leave when this guy struts in.”
“Truth. If I didn’t enjoy the show so much I’d probably do the same.” Sid says, eyeing Mikey’s sweats-covered man meat. “Anyway, you’ll do some damage to some egos in that shower room yourself, Adam. Swinging that surprise thigh slapper.”
I feel my cheeks go hot with blood as I blush, and maybe a bit of a stir in my gym shorts.
“Aw, shit! Look at that blush. Adam must be packing some real heat.” Eli jokes.
Sid leans over and whispers something to Eli and then shoots me a wink. Fuck. Showers. They expect me to shower. Here. Among the jocks. I’m on the verge of panicking when I see Eli’s eyes shoot behind Mikey and me.
“Uh oh. Lurker on your 6, big man.” Eli says quietly.
“Fuck. That’s the lurker? Fuck. Um…” Sid whisper-screams, looking like someone just pulled the bench out from under him. Then a slightly urgent, “Adam, don’t turn around.”
“What? What the fuck does that mean?” I ask, totally looking behind me to see the worst possible scenario. I feel my stomach hit the floor as I see Brett stacking plates on the bench press bar, one eye on Mikey’s broad back. He hasn’t noticed me yet, as his attention is totally fixed on Mikey.
I’ve always hated the cliche that all homophobes are secretly gay and lashing out because of their suppressed desires. Mostly because I hate my bullies, and would prefer they not be lumped together with the gay people they torment. I’d honestly never thought of Brett as a closet case, but in this moment watching him watch Mikey, I can see him perfectly for who he is. A coward, too terrified to be what I am every day of my life. I turn back, take a deep breath, and fucking feel my brain snap. I exhale, and feel the initial shock and fear leave my body completely. I look over to my side and see Mikey, a deeply concerned expression on his face.
“That’s him, isn’t it? That’s Brett.” He says, a coldness entering his eyes.
I smile, simply, easily. And nod yes. Mikey immediately goes to stand up and I grab his hand, pulling him gently back down to the bench.
“What am I missing?” Eli asks Sid.
“That guy’s been bullying Adam all year. Fucking nightmare fuel.” Sid whispers.
“Fuck.” Eli replies, then turning to me, with a grin, “Want us to fuck him up?”
“Actually, no.” I reply, “I think I have a better idea. Mikey, go offer him a spot.”
“Um. What?” Mikey asks, baffled.
“I’m sick and tired of this shit. I have a theory I’d like to prove and I think it might be what I need to end this. My way.” I explain, then subtly slide my hand down to Mikey’s big shaft, giving it a squeeze through his gear, “So go park this huge cock right above his face as he struggles to impress you, then out lift him and make him watch. Sid, can you get a good angle to film this on your phone?”
Sid nods, clearly understanding my plan. Eli looks puzzled.
“Come on, you’re with me.” Sid says to Eli, dragging him toward a machine I don’t know and whispering along the way.
“You sure about this? Mikey asks, looking troubled. “I really just wanna rearrange his face and run him off campus.”
“Oh no, babe. This guy’s so deep in the closet he’s having tea with Mr Tumnus. I want to see you out size him in every way. I want to see his image of himself completely torn down in the face of a real man.” I say low and husky into Mikey’s ear. “Show him. Dominate him.”
The smile that creeps into Mikey’s expression can only be described as demonic. I see his pupils grow huge with arousal at the thought of putting this fucker in his place, and I feel my own cock plump at the thought. I’m still wearing Mikey’s swole cover, so I pull the hood up and turn to face the direction Brett is setting up his bench press. I’ve got a good view from here and Brett still hasn’t clocked me. He’s only about 20 feet away but with the hoodie (and maybe the fact that I’ve never showed up here before) he hasn’t given me a second glance.
Mikey gets up, drops his 45 lb dumbbell on the rack, adjusts his junk for optimal size and walks confidently up to Brett as he sits on the bench.
“Hey man, you need a spot?” Mikey offers, already looming in front of my harasser.
I see Brett’s eyes go wide as the hulking behemoth saunters up. Brett is tall at 6’ 2” and what I would call beefy at about 175lbs, but beside Mikey he looks fucking puny to me. And from the look of Brett’s face, he’s feeling the same. I see his eyes shoot from Mikey’s enormous mound to his pecs to his handsome face and he stumbles a bit with his words. He’s usually all dick swagger and sneers, but squared up with Mikey he’s deflating in front of me.
“Uh, yeah man, that’d be great.” He stutters out in reply, looking up at my boyfriend with a mix of awe and determination.
“Cool. How many reps?” Mikey says with an easy smile. Moving into position at the head of the bench.
“10.” Brett says, trying to sound confident as he slides back into place, his face directly under Mikey’s prodigious crotch.
I see him look right at it, then adjust his hips on the bench a bit, maybe trying to make his own bulge look bigger? I never really noticed Brett’s bulge before, but in bench press it’s hard to hide what you’re working with. He looks average. Utterly average. Not small by normal standards, but absolutely dwarfed by Mikey’s epic cock and huge balls. Fuck, it looks like I’d be outsizing him quite a bit, unless he’s a championship grower. I find myself curling a bit faster as I watch everything play out. Fuck, does being horny make you workout harder? That would explain a lot about Mikey.
“Alright, let me know when you’re ready for me.” Mikey says, bending his knees and placing his hands in alternating positions between Brett’s. His legs nearly brushing Brett’s ears.
Bret starts the set and Mikey easily assists the bar into the air. Brett starts to pump the bar up and down smoothly, and Mikey starts his count.
“Three, doing good there, big guy. Five, you got this. Two more.” Mikey counts out, hovering his hands but letting Brett do the work. The bar begins to slow a bit on the last two, and Brett pushes his pelvis up for leverage. “Come on, nice and easy. One more.”
Brett pushes to 10, then tries for another, struggling through. He’s visibly sweating, clearly trying to hold his own but coming up hard against his limitations.
“Yup, push it. Go further. You want to be big, don’t you? You want real size, you gotta work for it.” Mikey says, voice dropping as Brett struggles with the final push to twelve, Brett’s eyes locked on the massive bulge looming over him. “You got any more in you, or are you spent?”
“One–Mmphf–one more.” Brett grunts, struggling for breath, veins rising in his neck and chest as he dips back down for one more lift.
“Alright, man, make it count.” Mikey says, bending his knees a bit more and hovering his hands, heavily implying a lack of confidence in Brett’s words. Also, incidentally, bouncing his hefty manhood in Brett’s face. Fuck I love my man.
Brett starts to push, get’s about a third of the way up, pauses… and then the bar starts to dip again. Mikey reaches out and puts two fingers of one hand under the bar and looks down his pecs into Brett’s eyes. I can see the struggle in his face as his pride prevents him from asking for help, but he’s clearly overwhelmed. For a split second I see the bar drop and I freeze. Mikey’s hands quickly and smoothly take the bar in an alternate grip and lift it effortlessly back into the J cups. He takes it so fas,t that for a moment he’s lifting Brett himself off of the bench, and his nose comes within grazing distance of Mikey’s balls.
“Nice, man. Really pushing your limits is the only past those plateaus.” Mikey says looking down at Brett from above as he catches his breath, still splayed out beneath the hulking muscle god. “You got it left in you to spot me?”
“Uh, yeah, of course.” Brett says so low I can barely hear him.
He sits up on the bench, tilting his head slightly to avoid bumping Mikey’s bulge on the way up. Mikey smirks as he grabs a few more plates and starts adding them on to the bar while Brett quickly cleans up the sweat slick on the bench. I watch Mikey add a big plate and another smaller plate to both sides of the bar and Brett’s eyes go wide at the final weight (I can’t see the numbers, but I’d estimate Mikey’s about to bench a little over 300lbs).
“How many, um, how many reps?” Brett says.
“Let’s go for 12.” Mikey says, peeling his tank top off and tossing it to Brett before plopping down on the bench and getting into position.
When Mikey lays flat my own eyes instinctually go to his epic bulge. I love how it looks and moves during bench press and today he’s in rare form. Obviously feeling turned on by putting this fucker in his place, his gray sweats are essentially painted to his unit. Even from here I can see the arc of his shaft tucked down and over the swell of his massive nuts. He arches his back and the whole thing rises and wobbles, leaving nothing to the imagination. I glance back at Brett and his eyes are locked to it, a mixture of lust and awe etched on his face. He’s not even doing his job as a spot, he’s so entranced, but Mikey doesn’t give a fuck, and easily lifts the bar without a spot.
Mikey starts pushing smoothly and evenly, making the weight float above him in a clear meter. Brett starts a count, his voice low and trembling, but he trails off as Mikey powers through the set. He comfortably cranks out the full set in no time, but then just keeps pumping. The weight rising faster as he pushes, veins popping up all over his naked torso, back arched as he grunts.
“MMM. Fuck yes.” Mikey grunts in satisfaction, “Fucking huge.”
Fuck, I can feel the energy radiating off him from where I’m sitting, and I know firsthand what Brett is experiencing; watching the muscular beast demonstrate pure, unbridled power up close is as terrifying as it is erotic. Mikey’s grunts intensify as he pushes himself, and I see his mammoth cock begin to inflate as he watches Brett cower and shrink in the face of such strength. Mikey’s pecs are pumping larger and larger, his nips hard, sweat sheen building as he cranks out more and more reps. His grunts are getting obscene. Not loud, just overtly sexual. His cock flexes and grows out along his hip, tenting one side of his gray sweats. I just know Brett can see the fat vein that snakes across the top of Mikey’s epic shaft, and I can even see his fat mushroom head through the material from across the room.
Brett’s jaw drops as Mikey explodes with power and pure masculinity. He takes a step back, not even thinking about spotting, just lost in shock as this hulking monster gets the pump of a lifetime in front of him. I glance down and see that Brett is fully erect in his gym shorts, a rock hard tent pitched right in the open. He’s breathing heavier, matching pace with Mikey’s pushes. I’ve totally lost count of his reps (I stopped curling the moment Mikey started going super saiyan).
Mikey pushes a few more, back arched, massive cock flexing on his hip, every muscle flexed and every vein raised and pumping. I watch Brett feel each grunt as Mikey pushes out one… more… rep. Brett’s body spasms, his cock pulsing visibly through his gym shorts, a large wet spot at the apex of his tent, growing larger with each pulse of his cock. His shorts are red and the contrast makes it unmistakable. He came. Spontaneously. Just from watching.
The fog of lust leaves his eyes and he hurries to cover himself, grabbing his towel and holding it in front of him, but it’s too late. I hadn’t noticed, but Mikey drew a bit of an audience. A few guys are gathered, waiting to high five Mikey, and all of them see what just happened in Brett’s pants. They start to snicker. One guy whispers to another. I see Sid is filming, a huge grin on his face. Brett mumbles something and starts walking fast out of the weight room and up the stairs and out of sight. Mikey sits up, sweaty and massive, pumped muscles twitching. He turns to me slowly and I see a wicked grin cross his face.
He wipes down the machine, high fives a few friends, then walks over to me. The sight of him walking toward me (massive cock slightly softened, bouncing free from his jock in the front of his sweats, shirtless muscles pumped and glistening with sweat,) makes me painfully aware of my own erection, mercifully strapped down to my thigh by the compression shorts. I stand up and he pulls me further off my feet into a kiss, his lips strong and breath heavy. He kisses me so hard my head spins a bit. I’m vaguely aware of the sounds of Sid and Eli walking up behind Mikey, and he breaks the kiss and sets me down on my feet.
“So,” Mikey says, looking down at me with a sparkle in his eyes, “let’s hit the showers.”
Probably one the more epic passages of this story. I wasn't expecting you to take what happens to Brett in public so far. Can't wait for the shower scene
that chapter was absolutely amazing! I’m so keen to read the next one!! Best story on here!
dredlifter
Expert Member
This is one of the best stories I've read on this site. Great pacing, great development of the characters and the story. Thank you so much for posting this.
I do have one question, will the growth aspect of the story be re-addressed? In the earlier chapters it was mentioned how Mikey was actually growth bigger all over, not just his cock. Is he still growing slightly taller? Is he growing more muscular and heavier? I would assume he is due to his constant bodybuilding. I'd love to see this addressed. He's already huge, and man those is that muscular and growing ever so slightly taller would be impossible to miss. Would love some confirmation of this. Perhaps a height measurement would be cool too. Just a suggestion! Love the story either way.
I do have one question, will the growth aspect of the story be re-addressed? In the earlier chapters it was mentioned how Mikey was actually growth bigger all over, not just his cock. Is he still growing slightly taller? Is he growing more muscular and heavier? I would assume he is due to his constant bodybuilding. I'd love to see this addressed. He's already huge, and man those is that muscular and growing ever so slightly taller would be impossible to miss. Would love some confirmation of this. Perhaps a height measurement would be cool too. Just a suggestion! Love the story either way.
As a matter of interest, does anyone have a real life reference in mind for Mikey? I know he's described as huge and extremely muscular but in my head it almost gets comical
It's difficult, because Mikey is supposed to be really young (like 19, 20 tops) and most bodybuilders that age haven't had the time to become so extremely massive. Usually once they gain all the muscle the steroids age them significantly, too.
A fave of mine that comes to mind is Joshua Taubes, because of his handsome, youthful looks. But I guess he'd need about 50 more lbs of muscle and a few inches to be exactly like Mikey haha
dredlifter
Expert Member
Josh Taubes would be a decent model for Mikey.
I actually don't see Mikey being this enormous heavily muscled bodybuilder...yet. I picture him more as having a classic bodybuilding physique. Think a young Chris Bumstead or Urs Kalecinsky. Huge, but not colossally thick and huge like open pro-bodybuilders. Being a young guy, even if he's decently muscled, he's going to seem ENORMOUS being among young skinny college guys. Right now there's a plethora of very young classic bodybuilders that I could picture him being among the likes of.
Here's a few tall "classically muscular" young men you can find on IG: Breno Friere, Austin Keil, Wessley Vissers, Maciej Nabaglo, Guilherme Filpo
Of course, with his growth, I hope he continues to put on muscle mass and becomes a truly HUGE guy, but that's my preference
I actually don't see Mikey being this enormous heavily muscled bodybuilder...yet. I picture him more as having a classic bodybuilding physique. Think a young Chris Bumstead or Urs Kalecinsky. Huge, but not colossally thick and huge like open pro-bodybuilders. Being a young guy, even if he's decently muscled, he's going to seem ENORMOUS being among young skinny college guys. Right now there's a plethora of very young classic bodybuilders that I could picture him being among the likes of.
Here's a few tall "classically muscular" young men you can find on IG: Breno Friere, Austin Keil, Wessley Vissers, Maciej Nabaglo, Guilherme Filpo
Of course, with his growth, I hope he continues to put on muscle mass and becomes a truly HUGE guy, but that's my preference
Wessley is probably how I imagine Mikey.Josh Taubes would be a decent model for Mikey.
I actually don't see Mikey being this enormous heavily muscled bodybuilder...yet. I picture him more as having a classic bodybuilding physique. Think a young Chris Bumstead or Urs Kalecinsky. Huge, but not colossally thick and huge like open pro-bodybuilders. Being a young guy, even if he's decently muscled, he's going to seem ENORMOUS being among young skinny college guys. Right now there's a plethora of very young classic bodybuilders that I could picture him being among the likes of.
Here's a few tall "classically muscular" young men you can find on IG: Breno Friere, Austin Keil, Wessley Vissers, Maciej Nabaglo, Guilherme Filpo
Of course, with his growth, I hope he continues to put on muscle mass and becomes a truly HUGE guy, but that's my preference
These are interesting! I don't really know a lot of big body builders, especially blond and obviously handsome if you see what I mean? Makes it difficult to imagine Mikey for me. So this is cool to see and "shop around" thanks guys.
I think the closest I could think of is maybe Kellan Lutz
I think the closest I could think of is maybe Kellan Lutz
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