Body Shop

by Emeric Varady

  Panting for breath, Konrad fucked his way through both of their orgasms, keeping his cock planted in the twitching hole, enjoying the relief that always came with the total possession of another man’s ass.

  “Oh, God!” Bartol exulted. “I’ve never had it this good! It’s not just the pills. You’re so hot. You make me come so hard, and so many times! I feel as though I’ve had all the juices sucked out of me!”

  Konrad treated Bartol to a few more jabs, and then he pulled out of the guy’s quaking ass. They settled down on the bed, side by side, and Bartol kissed Konrad—who returned the kiss, but then pulled gently away.

  “I’m kind of tired,” Konrad said. “Aren’t you?”

  “A little.”

  “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

  “All right. But only if you promise me I can have more of that cock in the morning.”

  “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

  Chapter Four: Husband and Wife

  The Body Shop was a good place in which to hook up with guys, for sex. The management, far from frowning on cruising, almost seemed to encourage it. Some of the bolder, more reckless members were even known to fool around with each other in the steam room, inside the toilet booths in the locker room, or in the showers. If any of the gym’s employees happened to walk in and catch two—or more!—members in the act, he turned his back and walked away again, developing instant amnesia. The staff had been instructed to overlook and tolerate the members’ peccadillos. What the hell? It was all consensual sex, between adults. And a reputation as a gay-friendly facility could be good for business.

  But most men, although they might make eye contact while working out, and they’d engage other like-minded members in flirtatious, suggestive conversation, had enough discretion and class to carry on their sexual activities elsewhere than on the gym premises. Lots of casual flings, and even some ongoing, enduring romances, resulted from guys leaving the gym together, or exchanging phone numbers there and agreeing to hook up somewhere later.

  A hard-muscled, attractive young bodybuilder like Konrad could just about write his own ticket, picking and choosing his sex partners from among his many admirers. He scarcely needed to do any cruising at any of Budapest’s many gay nightclubs and bars. He could get laid, for free, as often as he wanted to, just from his contacts at the gym. And The Body Shop was a good place in which to drum up some business, every now and then, as well. Konrad knew that he had to be discreet when he used the gym as a base for hustling. The management might be open-minded, but it wasn’t that tolerant. Konrad didn’t mind being a part-time whore, selling sex in order to make some extra money. But he didn’t want to become known as a whore, there where he worked out, which he really thought of as his home away from home. And so, he was careful.

  Shortly after he’d first hooked up with Bartol, though, he found himself another generous john, right there on the gym premises.

  A guy named Todor was some sort of a businessman, who usually arrived at the gym wearing expensive bespoke suits, and carrying an elegant alligator-skin briefcase in addition to his gym bag. He was a fairly young man, maybe in his early thirties, and very handsome. He was always very well groomed—at least, before he changed into his workout attire and hit the weights. He was pretty serious about his training. He worked out hard, not sparing himself. After taking the steam and showering, and getting dressed again in his business clothes, he tended to look less well pulled together, with his hair uncombed, his tie off, and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck and the cuffs, and he certainly seemed more relaxed.

  Todor wasn’t shy about looking at Konrad, whenever the two of them happened to be pumping iron on the weight floor at the same time, or they were in the locker room, the steam room, or the showers. Todor wore a gold wedding ring on his left hand, and Konrad assumed that he was a closeted married man, or maybe bi-curious but cautious. They’d engaged in casual conversation on a few occasions, but Konrad couldn’t say that Todor was really flirtatious. He might be just one of those straight men who had a nonsexual admiration for bodybuilders.

  One evening, however, they both happened to take a break from their workout routines at the same time, and they met at the gym’s drinking fountain—which, Konrad had begun to realize, could be a good place at which to make contacts.

  “You’re looking bigger all the time,” Todor remarked.

  “Thanks. That’s the idea, after all,” Konrad replied.

  “It must be kind of expensive to maintain a bodybuilding lifestyle, on your level. Eating enough protein—paying for supplements—to say nothing of steroids,” Todor said, in a casual tone of voice.

  “I don’t take steroids,” Konrad lied, primly.

  “Oh, my mistake.” Todor didn’t look as though he was fooled, though.

  “But you’re right about the rest of it being expensive,” Konrad acknowledged. “If you know some way a guy like me can make some extra money,” he added, boldly, “please let me in on it.”

  “Maybe I do. Tell me. Do you like sex?” Todor asked Konrad.

  “Of course. Who doesn’t like sex?” Konrad retorted.

  “It could depend on what kind of sex we’re talking about,” the other man suggested.

  “Okay—I’ll grant you that. What kind of sex are we talking about?”

  “Sex with a woman—my wife—while her husband—me—watches.”

  “Oh, is that all?” Konrad asked. He was pleased that Todor had come right to the point, and was speaking to him so frankly.

  “You aren’t shocked?”

  “Not particularly. Let me guess. You’re gay, or at least bi,” Konrad suggested. “You married your wife for her money—or to hide the fact that you’re gay—or both.”

  Todor, quite without shame, laughed. “You’re very astute. You’re entirely correct. For the record, her money was the major, deciding factor.”

  “You two have an ‘understanding?’ An open marriage?”

  “It’s wide open. My wife—her name’s Katalin—she enjoys her pleasures, and I enjoy mine. There are times when our desires do intersect. That’s always pleasant. Do you think you could be an ‘intersection,’ so to speak? And satisfy us both?”

  “I can try,” Konrad said.

  “You’re delightful. I like you very much. I’m sure my wife will like you, too, just as much. When you finish your workout, don’t rush off. See me in the locker room. I’ll give you one of my business cards. I’ll write my personal number on the back. We’ll talk.”

  “Ah—like we were saying, before—I’m always on the lookout for some way to score some extra cash,” Konrad said.

  Todor gave him a reassuring smile. “But of course. When we talk, I’m sure we’ll be able to come to a mutually satisfactory financial arrangement. You’ll see. I don’t economize, when it’s a question of paying for my pleasures. Or for my wife’s. I think of it as an investment, in my marriage, guaranteeing ongoing marital serenity.”

  Shit! Konrad thought. Sex with a woman—sucking her cunt—fucking her vagina. That looseness, that fishy smell. Not like the firmness of a man’s flesh! But money was money, after all.

  He’d just have to overcome his revulsion and pretend to be straight.

  The next day, Konrad and Todor did have a lengthy conversation on the phone. The upshot was that Konrad agreed to do another all-nighter, this time a threesome with the married couple. Todor’s wife’s name, as he’d told Konrad, was Katalin. Todor assured Konrad that she was beautiful, sexy, and totally uninhibited. Todor agreed to pay the young bodybuilder the princely sum of a hundred thousand forints [about three hundred and fifty US dollars], which to the habitually impecunious Konrad was a small fortune. Konrad wasn’t really all that keen on the idea of fucking a woman. But for that amount of money, he’d be willing to hump Todor’s pet dog, if the guy had one, and if that was what he wanted Konrad to do!

  Once again, Konrad was on call on a Saturday night. He reported to the married couple’s apartment, which w
as located in Rózsadomb, or Rose Hill. This was an area of the Buda Hills which was still part of Budapest’s District II, close to the city center, and it was one of the city's most fashionable and luxurious residential neighborhoods.

  I’m coming up in the world, Konrad told himself, wryly, when Todor greeted him and ushered him into the living room of the spacious, beautifully furnished apartment.

  It was one of the few times that Konrad had seen Todor casually dressed—in jeans and a sweatshirt, and socks, without shoes.

  Konrad was introduced to Katalin. She was a luscious, full-figured brunette. Her voluptuous body was wrapped in a pink silk dressing gown, and it was obvious that she wasn’t wearing anything under it. She looked Konrad up and down, assessing him in a rather predatory manner.

  “Come on, Todor,” she purred. “Offer our guest a drink. We want him to feel at home here.”

  “We’re having lemon drop martinis,” Todor said. “With that splash of lemon juice in them, they’re practically a health food drink.”

  “Then I’ll try one, please.” Konrad rarely drank hard liquor. But he was a little nervous, so he decided that a couple of cocktails wouldn’t hurt him, and might help him to mellow out, smoothing over his anxiety.

  “Coming right up,” Todor said. “And while we’re enjoying our drinks, how about a soak in the hot tub? That’s the advantage of this drink cart.” He indicated the portable drink bar, which was in fact a quite substantial, impressive of furniture, mounted on castors. It was well equipped with bottles, glasses, and bar accessories. “You can wheel it anywhere you want.”

  “We usually keep it in the bedroom,” Katalin quipped. “Within reach of the bed.”

  The hot tub was a surprisingly large one, to find installed indoors. It was sunk into a tiled floor in a space of its own, next to the bathroom, but divided from it by a sliding frosted glass wall, which was closed at the moment. The tub was surrounded by houseplants in pots. It resembled a tropical oasis, private, intimate, and sensuous.

  Soon, the three of them were soaking nude in the bubbling hot water, slugging down one round of the martinis after another.

  “Don’t let me get too drunk,” Konrad cautioned his host couple.

  Katalin giggled. “Is there such a thing as too drunk?”

  “Stand up, Konrad,” Todor urged. “Let’s have another look at that physique of yours.”

  Konrad, drink in hand, rose in the tub, standing in it with the foaming water swirling about his thighs.

  “Oh, you’ve got a beautiful body, and such a beautiful big cock!” Katalin gurgled.

  “I told you Konrad was hot,” her husband told her. “He’s just about the hottest guy down there at the gym. Go ahead, Katalin, don’t be shy. Get a taste of that cock. I’m sure Konrad won’t mind.”

  Taking this as his cue, Konrad waded through the water and stepped up closer to her. “Yeah, feel free to give it a suck, if you want to. Please,” he added, minding his manners.

  Katalin moved from her seated position in the tub, into a kneeling one, immersing herself up to her waist. Her dark eyes flashed with wanton desire. Her red lips opened. Leaning forward eagerly, a movement which made her full breasts sway, she took Konrad’s dick in her immaculately manicured hand, with its polished nails, and she raised it to her mouth. Her tongue slipped out from between her lips and swabbed all over the young bodybuilder’s agitated fuck tool, coating it with warm, sticky saliva.

  Konrad shuddered. The skilled application of that tongue on his cock flesh was awakening his need. This wasn’t so bad after all, he told himself. A tongue was a tongue, and Katalin obviously had a most talented one! She was quickly coaxing his penis into full erection. After emitting an appreciative little moan, she retracted her tongue, she opened her lips wider, and she took his prick into her mouth. Immediately, she began to demonstrate that her mouth was every bit as resourceful as her tongue.

  “That’s right. Suck it,” Konrad gasped.

  “Yeah, suck on that big piece of meat,” Todor urged his spouse.

  Konrad turned his head and glanced at Todor. The married man had gotten to his feet in the tub, too. He was standing there, treating himself to an energetic jerk, which was doing a fine job of keeping his cock hard.

  “I like to see a woman down on her knees, sucking dick,” Todor said.

  The remark struck Konrad as more than a little misogynistic. But he reminded himself that was there to perform sexually, not to judge.

  Konrad’s skin was flushed from the heat, and he was perspiring.

  “You look so sexy,” Todor complimented him. The married man paused in his masturbation long enough to pick up the refilled cocktail shaker, which had been set near the rim of the tub. “Here, Katalin, add some cocktail to that cock.”

  Katalin took her mouth off Konrad’s dick. Todor tipped the shaker and poured a thin trickle of martini onto the bodybuilder’s stiff penis.

  “Yummy,” Katalin murmured. “Delicious—!” She quickly, deftly lapped up the dribbled liquid. Her husband let more of the alcohol drip down onto Konrad’s prick, which Katalin then took back inside her mouth. She moaned with delight around the alcohol-flavored erection which she was now sucking again, more passionately than ever.

  Still holding the shaker, Todor knelt in the tub beside her. “My turn,” he said.

  Relinquishing Konrad’s cock, Katalin allowed Todor to soak it with the martini mix before he stuffed it into his mouth. Todor demonstrated his own skill at fellatio on Konrad, who shuddered with pleasure as the man worked on him. It was a tossup, which was the hotter, more skilled cocksucker, the husband or the wife!

  Fucking hell, Konrad though, in a semi-drunken daze. Maybe there’s something to be said for this bisexual thing, after all! If only every woman could be as wild as Katalin, as hot for cock—then I might decide to start swinging both ways, myself, just like her sexy stud husband!

  “Both of you,” he coached the couple. “Both of you, suck my cock. Back and forth. Take turns going down on that big dick of mine. I want to compare your techniques.”

  Todor took his mouth off Konrad’s cock. “I like this kind of a drinking contest,” he panted, pouring more of the shaker’s contents over Konrad’s fuck tool before Katalin swooped down on it, enveloped it in her mouth, and resumed sucking. Konrad reached down, took the shaker from Todor’s hand, and drank directly from it.

  “Turn around, stud,” was Todor’s next suggested. “Bent over and stick out your big butch ass. We want to suck that, too.”

  He poured a trickle of martini into the deep cleft between Konrad’s well-developed, solid glutes, but, generously, he allowed his wife to have the first taste. Katalin licked Konrad’s sphincter with light, teasing strokes, before she stiffened her tongue and thrust it through the puckered aperture, working around inside it more aggressively, scouring out the hole.

  “Oh, my God!” Konrad cried.

  Then Todor took over the rimming.

  “Oh, yeah,” Todor groaned, happily, in between licks. “This is the way drinks should be served! If we could only keep you around here all the time, Konrad, we wouldn’t need any glasses. We could throw them all away.”

  “Let me try that again,” Katalin demanded.

  She once again rimmed Konrad’s martini-flavored ass. Konrad shivered and moaned while the woman’s tongue swabbed out his manhole. In his naïveté, he’d always assumed that rimming was essentially a gay male thing. It had never occurred to him that a woman could eat ass just as hungrily, as lustily, as a horny guy!

  His ass was eaten repeatedly, husband and wife switching, taking turns, never leaving Konrad’s spasmodically excited anus neglected, without a tongue stuck inside it, for more than the few seconds it took them to change places.

  “Too hot,” the heavily perspiring, intensely aroused Konrad gasped, at last. “You guys are getting me too damn hot. And the steam—! I may pass out.”

  “We can’t have that,” Todor said. “We need you conscious�
�and potent. Come on, let’s get out. I’ll turn off the tub, and we can dry off—and head into the bedroom.”

  “If you do pass out, big guy, I’ll perform mouth-to-penis resuscitation on you,” Katalin joked. “That ought to bring you back to life!”

  The drinking, combined with the fun and games in the hot tub, had enabled Konrad not only to get over his nervousness, but to cast aside his inhibitions altogether. In the luxurious bedroom, on the huge bed, he writhed happily between Todor and Katalin, quite enjoying the contrast between a man’s body and a woman’s. He sucked Todor’s cock. He sucked Katalin’s nipples. He took the plunge, burying his face between the woman’s soft, lush thighs and performing cunnilingus on her. This was a comparative novelty for Konrad—it had been some time since he’s gone down on a woman—but it was like riding a bicycle. The technique quickly came back to him.

  “Uh, yeah, lick my pussy and my clitty, lover, just like that!” Katalin exclaimed, while Konrad worked on her with his lips and tongue, orally exploring her female genital flesh, tasting her seeping fluids on his tongue. Todor was close by them on the bed, keeping his hands busy, playing with Konrad’s cock and ass. “Oh,” Katalin moaned. “I can feel it, deep in my cunt. That buzzy feeling, that means I’m getting ready to come!”

  “Now—fuck her!” Todor demanded, his voice hoarse with lust. “Get that big dick of yours in her pussy. Give it to her rough, she likes it that way. Fuck her good, and come in her cunt. Let her have a nice big, hot, wet load!”

  Konrad found himself more excited than he’d anticipated. Maybe he was bisexual, to at least some extent, after all! Todor, however, was now masturbating himself into a frenzy, and the sight of the man’s fist pumping away on his stiff, angry-looking prick rather reaffirmed Konrad’s basic homosexuality. Konrad wanted to see the other man’s cock unload, and the prospect of doing so gave him the extra push he needed, to perform satisfactorily as a pseudo-straight stud.