Body Shop

by Emeric Varady

  So, Konrad thought, that’s the deal—that’s how it is. If I want to go on seeing him—having sex with him—I’m going to have to give in to him, let him be the boss and call the shots, huh?

  Well—that’s fine with me!

  Chapter Six: Pounding the Muscle Pup

  Every gym had its muscle pups, and The Body Shop was no exception. These are the young weightlifters who take the older—only slightly older, in some cases—and more experienced bodybuilders as their role models. The pups look up to them, emulate them, and want to be just like them, with equally well-developed, impressive physiques.

  Some muscle pups were one hundred per cent straight, although their open, undisguised adulation of other muscular males might suggest otherwise. Others were one hundred per cent gay, and could be quite candid and unapologetic about the fact. In between these two extremes, there was a broad spectrum of sexuality, including young guys who were bisexual, bi-curious, versatile, or simply undecided.

  This could be confusing. It was hard, sometimes, for one bodybuilder to know exactly what was going on inside the head of another bodybuilder who kept ogling him, sticking close to him in the gym, observing everything he did while he hefted the weights.

  Konrad always had his own retinue of such young admirers. Among these “Konrad wannabees” was a guy named Sandor, who was about nineteen or twenty years old. Already the possessor of a good physique for someone that young, Sandor made no secret of the fact that he idolized Konrad and aspired to look just like him, at least from the neck down. Sandor wouldn’t need to change anything from his neck up. He was quite a handsome lad, with features which were almost pretty—and which were arguably a mismatch for the brawny, mature-looking, herculean physique he was working so hard to achieve.

  Because Sandor never really bothered him, and certainly never committed the capital crime of interrupting one of his workouts, Konrad tolerated him, and even developed a kind of smugly superior, big-brotherlike affection for the boy. Konrad also wasn’t immune to the younger guy’s good looks. At times, idly, Konrad would speculate about what Sandor might be like as a sex partner. Screwing such young guys could be tricky. The sex could be a lot of fun, but some of the naïve lads assumed that every man they went to bed with was going to be the love of their life.

  Jakob had warned Konrad that he didn’t like guys who were “clingy.” Ironically enough, Konrad felt much the same way—except when he was the one who wanted to cling to the other guy.

  The boyishly innocent-looking Sandor turned out to be bolder than Konrad had given him credit for. Late one Friday afternoon, Konrad had finished putting in his afterwork workout. He showered, while trying to decide what he wanted to do that evening. He might go out. Or he could stay at home, and do some texting, to find out whether any of his fuck buddies wanted to get together with him. The latter opinion became to look increasing good to him, as he dried off and slowly, unhurriedly, he started to get dressed.

  Sandor came into the locker room.

  “Hi,” he said, shyly.

  “Hi,” Konrad responded, in a friendly manner which encouraged further conversation.

  “I’ve been wanting to ask you—”

  “Yeah?”

  “Your rear delts. They’re really thick,” Sandor said. “How do you get them—and keep them—that way?”

  This led to a fairly detailed discussion, during which Konrad explained that lighter weights combined with more reps helped him to isolate his rear delts and work them more efficiently. Furthermore, the body part in question was a comparatively small muscle, which meant it tended to recover quickly after being exercised. So working the rear delts often, at least two or three times a week, was a good idea. Konrad liked to superset light rear delt raises with chest flyes on his upper body pump day, and then he’d do moderate weight raises after his bench presses on a chest and shoulders, or press, day. Sandor listened intently, absorbing all of this information.

  “The rear delts are an important body part,” Konrad concluded. “But maybe the reason some guys neglect them are because they aren’t a very sexy body part,” he joked.

  “On a guy like you, every part of your body is sexy,” Sandor said.

  Konrad smiled. “You think so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Like to fool around with other bodybuilders, do you? Get sexy with them?”

  “If—somehow—I could be alone with a guy like you,” Sandor blurted out, “I’d do anything he wanted.”

  “Really?” Konrad inquired, looking and sounding skeptical.

  “Really.”

  “Such as?”

  “Uh—!”

  Konrad laughed. “If you have to think about it,” he suggested, cynically, “then I doubt you’re ready for it. I mean, ready for the kind of heavy scene you seem to be fantasizing about.”

  “I’d worship the guy’s muscles,” Sandor said. The expression on his face clearly read, Is that the right answer? Is that what you want me to say?

  “Well, that’d be a start.”

  “I’d, ah, touch them. If he’d let me.”

  “Maybe you’d give the guy a tongue bath,” Konrad suggested, salaciously. “Use your mouth on his body, everywhere,” he specified. “Lick and suck him, all over.”

  Sandor, Konrad could see, was definitely titillated.

  “Ever had that done to you?” the boy asked.

  “Lots of times,” Konrad boasted. “There’s nothing I like better than having a horny, muscle-loving gay man submit to me—totally. Think you’re man enough to give that a try?”

  “I’d like to try,” Sandor said, meekly. “To try to satisfy you.”

  “Huh,” Konrad grunted. “You might be worth my time and trouble—some night when I’m home alone, feeling good and horny. When I’m desperate.”

  That last bit was a put-down, an insult, but Sandor didn’t react to it as such. “Whenever you say,” he responded, with a mien that was promisingly submissive, indeed.

  Konrad made up his mind. “I’ll give you my address,” he deigned to say, with the haughty, superior air of a monarch bestowing a favor upon some groveling peasant. “Be there tonight, at nine. Nine sharp. Don’t even think about being late. If you do show up late, and if I let you in—then there’ll be hell to pay,” he promised, or rather threatened.

  “I’ll be there right at nine,” Sandor vowed.

  “You’d better be. And you’d better be ready to take orders from me. I don’t have any use for a goddamn prickteaser, the kind of a muscle punk who talks big ahead of time, but then won’t put out when the time comes,” Konrad warned. “If you want to be my boy, then I expect nothing less than complete obedience.”

  “I’ll obey you,” Sandor swore.

  “Between now and nine, you think about just how much you want this body of mine,” Konrad advised, “and about just what kinds of dirty, nasty things you’re willing to do, to make me happy.”

  The two men went their separate ways.

  During the hours which slowly ticked off until nine o’clock rolled around, Konrad did some rather feverish thinking, himself. Talk about a real muscle pup! Sandor was so young and fresh and naïve. Maybe he wasn’t a virgin, but he was surely still comparatively inexperienced, sexually. He was untouched and unspoiled. He needed a more worldly guy to initiate and mentor him—to train him. He was just like an eager puppy, wagging his tail, ready and willing to please his master! Even prepared to be punished by him, when he misbehaved—!

  I’m going to fuck that muscle pup’s mouth and ass, Konrad promised himself. Fuck them until they’re both sore! And then I’ll make the little bitch beg me for more!

  Sandor showed up at Konrad’s apartment at five minutes before nine. And, five minutes later, the two men were in Konrad’s bedroom, naked

  “Don’t be shy,” Konrad urged. “Let me have that prick.”

  Sandor climbed onto the bed, obediently, and he lay on his back. His cock was a very dark rosy pink, the veiny shaft crowned
by a big round knob which protruded from the sheath of retracted foreskin. His piss slit was dripping pre-cum, evidence of his already acute arousal.

  Konrad stood beside the bed and flexed his arms and pecs, displaying himself, showing off. His cock too was hard, and it was also leaking jism.

  “Looks like we’re both pretty turned on,” he commented.

  “Yeah,” Sandor breathed, staring up at Konrad’s muscular torso.

  “Do you like my body?”

  “You know I do.”

  “How about my cock?”

  “I, ah, I especially like that,” Sandor stammered.

  “Then go ahead and suck it. You want to, don’t you? Sure you do. Do a good job of sucking my dick, and then I’ll fuck your ass. Okay?”

  “Um,” Sandor mumbled. Sitting up slightly on the bed, he reached out and took Konrad’s cock in his hand. Konrad got onto the bed, next to Sandor, on his knees. Still grasping Konrad’s cock, Sandor guided it to his mouth. Looking up at Konrad’s face, with a beseeching expression on his own face, he began to lick the other bodybuilder’s prickhead.

  “Yeah,” Konrad coached him. “Get it wet. Then put it in your mouth.” His hand went to the back of Sandor’s head and his fingers grabbed the guy’s hair. He pressed Sandor’s lips against his dick. Sandor let out a moan, but he didn’t resist. He opened his mouth wider and his warm, moist tongue swabbed Konrad’s cock flesh more energetically, wetting it with his saliva. Sandor’s hand was now around his own dick, jerking it, slowly but passionately.

  “I need it sucked,” Konrad reminded him. Remembering how Jakob had ordered him around, he imitated Jakob’s tough manner. “So get busy. Suck it!”

  Sandor’s mouth closed around his cockhead, and he began to slide his lips down around Konrad’s fiercely pulsating shaft.

  “That’s better,” Konrad gasped.

  Sandor whimpered as he took more and more of Konrad’s dick into his mouth, while Konrad maintained his grip on Sandor’s hair and held his head in place, at his groin. Sandor accelerated his masturbation, and Konrad began to fuck his face, forcing Sandor to take his cock all the way down to the balls on each downstroke. The bigger muscle man’s aggressiveness seemed to excite Sandor even more. He gagged a couple of times, when Konrad’s thick glans jabbed down into his throat. Manfully, though, he held his ground, suctioning away stoically on the big prick which was violating his mouth. His lips massaged Konrad’s shaft, which he rubbed with his tongue. His fist pumped faster on his own stiff dick.

  “Yeah,” Konrad growled. “Beat yours while you suck mine. Make yourself come. I want to see you unload. And make me shoot, too. Suck the cum right out of me. Come on, cocksucker. Blow your wad. But keep that mouth going on my prick. Yeah, suck that muscle cock, stud. Show me how much you like having it in your mouth, how good it feels in there.”

  An ecstatic moan, muffled by the mass of cock flesh in his mouth, emerged from Sandor’s throat. His fist worked frantically on his dick. His legs tensed and thrashed about on the bed. Then, without any warning, cum spewed from his prickhead, splashing all over both men’s bodies.

  “Yeah,” Konrad gloated. “Lose that cum. Pump it all out, every drop.” He was enjoying, as he always did, the sight of another muscular man in the throes of orgasm. Excitedly, he watched each jet of semen escape from Sandor’s roughly-fisted hard-on. The spurts lost their initial velocity, so that the final outpouring merely flowed down sluggishly over the glans of the penis and coated Sandor’s hand and wrist with glistening white slime.

  Seeing his bedmate ejaculate made Konrad want to come, too. But not before he’d had a chance to pound the eager young muscle pup’s pretty ass!

  “My turn,” Konrad declared, brusquely. “Move your butt into position. You’re going to get fucked.”

  Nodding his agreement, Sandor quickly twisted his body about on the bed, maneuvering himself into position. Still on his back, he swung around to face Konrad, who knelt close to him. Sandor tilted his butt upward, at the same time bending his legs, bringing his knees toward his chest, and sliding his arms under his legs, so that, with his elbows pressed against the backs of his knees, he could hold his legs up and keep them spread. The soles of his feet were parallel with the ceiling.

  “Fuck me hard and fuck me hot,” he begged.

  “I’ll fuck you any damn way I want,” Konrad retorted, grabbing the lube. “Who do you think’s in charge here?”

  “You are.”

  “Hell, yes.” Konrad applied a generous coating of the lube to his prick. With his slippery hand, he probed between Sandor’s upraised and parted buttocks, exploring his bunghole, and rubbing the rest of the lube into the tiny, puckered, flexing sphincter. “That’s a nice tight ass you’ve got there, boy,” Konrad grunted. “We’re going to have to loosen it up a bit.” He pushed two fingers deep into the hole, which made Sandor moan with anticipation of being penetrated by something larger.

  Withdrawing his fingers, Konrad positioned himself for the insertion. He closed his eyes for a moment, indulging in the fantasy that it was Jakob’s ass which he was about to claim as his own property. Inspired by the thought, by his mental image of Jakob taking his cock, he thrust forward, driving dick all the way inside the waiting, yielding male hole. He imagined Jakob taking his cock, begging for it, shivering with desire—he could almost hear Jakob saying, “Fuck me, yeah, fuck me! Oh, make it hurt! I want it so bad, I don’t care if it hurts!”

  But it was Sandor, not Jakob, who had spoken. The sound of his voice brought Konrad back to reality, to the here and now, which God knew was stimulating enough in its own right, independent of any incidental fantasies.

  “You big-dicked muscle fucker!” Sandor cried.

  “You are tight,” Konrad gasped. “Tight and hot! Nice ass, kid! Yeah, that’s a real nice ass. It feels just great around my cock. Uh, you’re going to find out what it’s like to be fucked by a real man now!”

  “Yeah,” Sandor replied.

  “Jerk yourself while I screw you,” Konrad demanded. “Bitch, I bet you can make yourself come again. With my cock in your ass, you must be horny enough to blow your wad again.”

  “I am—oh, I am,” Sandor whined. Obeying Konrad’s command, he’d closed his fist around his cock, which he began stroking as rapidly as he had before.

  Konrad sneered. “You dirty, nasty little son of a bitch. You’re taking my dick like a real whore.”

  The simmer, deep in Konrad’s loins, was already heating up and becoming a slow boil. This wasn’t going to be prolonged fuck. Sandor’s ass was too stimulating as it gripped and massaged Konrad’s cock, propelling him closer to orgasm with each thrust he made into the other muscle man’s body.

  “Hot-assed punk,” Konrad moaned, although the epithet sounded more like praise than an insult. “Cock-loving whore!”

  “Don’t stop fucking me, big guy,” Sandor pleaded.

  “I don’t want to stop, but I’m going to come soon. You’re going to get a big load of cum in your ass.”

  “I want that. But I want you to go on fucking me, too. Oh, God—this is so hot!”

  “You’re not a bad fuck, for a kid,” Konrad deigned to say. “A steady diet of dick up your ass ought to make a man out of you.”

  Time seemed to stand still while Konrad plowed away. Eventually, though, he recognized the telltale signs of approaching orgasm at work in his body—the extra ache in his balls, the slight expansion of his cock, the way it twitched and tingled.

  “Here I come,” Konrad warned. “Uh, it’s going to be a big one! I’m going to come hard, boy! I’m really going to shoot—I’m really going to fill you up. You’d better be ready—! Aw, shit, I can feel myself about to blow! You come, too, boy! You shoot off, too, when I do! Come on, jerk that prick. Lose that load. Give me that cum!”

  He reached down and gripped Sandor’s ass cheeks with both of his hands, digging his fingertips into the firm round mounds. He held that squirming butt pressed tightly into his groin, keepi
ng the full length of his dick embedded inside the spasming anus. He could feel his semen foaming out of his cockhead, bathing Sandor’s prostate, the flow backing up and filling Sandor’s ass, the slippery wetness re-lubricating Konrad’s fuck tool, which now jackhammered more easily back and forth within the tight, clasping sheath of anal flesh. Konrad moaned loudly in relief. He was coming good and hard, venting all of his lust, all of his frustration, all of his sexual rage, upon his willing, compliant sex partner.

  “Good fuck,” he exclaimed. “Yeah, there’s nothing like a good fuck!”

  Sandor said nothing coherent by way of reply, although his loud outcries of lustful satisfaction suggested that he concurred with his fucker’s opinion. Sandor was ejaculating, too, his spurting prick bathing his sweaty pecs and his tautened ab muscles in his sperm.

  Chapter Seven: More Than One Man

  Konrad received a call from Jakob.

  “How’s it hanging, stud?” the big blond bodybuilder inquired, breezily.

  “It’s not hanging at the moment, it’s sticking straight up,” Konrad retorted.

  “Does just the sound of my voice do that to you?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself,” Konrad said—although the truth was, hearing from Jakob did have an immediate energizing effect on him.

  “What’re you doing tonight?”

  “I wasn’t doing anything, until a minute ago. Now I’m sort of hoping I’ll be seeing you.”

  “I have a date lined up tonight.”

  “Oh.” Konrad tried to keep his disappointment from sounding in his voice.

  “With a john,” Jakob specified.

  “Oh,” Konrad repeated. “How nice for you.” And you’re telling me this, why? he was tempted to ask.

  “Want in on it?”

  “Huh?”

  “Want to make some money? This guy is one of my regulars. This time, though, apparently I’m not enough for him. He says he’s in the mood for more than one man,” Jakob explained. “He wants me to scrounge up another muscle man, to make it a threesome.”