Meanwhile, Konrad had other options, and he didn’t hesitate to take advantage of them.
One day, while he was getting ready to knock off work, Konrad called Sandor. He asked the hot blond muscle pup whether he wanted to meet Konrad at The Body Shop. They could work out together, and then go to Konrad’s place and have sex.
“Oh, shit, Konrad, I can’t,” Sandor said, apologetically. “I promised to have dinner with my parents tonight, and I really can’t get out of it. They’ve invited some of our relatives. It’ll be a party, it’ll drag on—and by the time it breaks up, it’ll be too late for me to come to your place, at least on a weekday night.”
“That’s okay, I understand.” Konrad tried to keep his disappointment from being audible in his voice. “What about tomorrow night?”
“Tomorrow night, I can see you, definitely. For sure.”
“All right, that’s a date, then. First the gym. Then maybe go somewhere for dinner. And then back to my place—for dessert,” Konrad said, suggestively.
“Looking forward to it.”
“So am I. Well—I’ll let you go. Enjoy the party.”
Konrad punched out at work, and then he went directly to the gym. He put in a long, hard, productive workout. Afterward, feeling too tired and lazy to cook for himself, he stopped at a café and had coffee and a bite to eat—pork sausages, with a side dish of lentils, rice, and purple cabbage. All the while, he thought about Sandor, anticipating getting together with Sandor again. Bending the boy to his will, venting his lust on him. Fucking him! Konrad wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it through the next twenty-four hours, before their date.
He reminded himself that he wouldn’t necessarily have to. Celibacy, even temporary abstinence lasting only one night and day, had zero appeal for him. And he had one trusty friend who never let him down. Namely, his right hand!
When he got home later that night, Konrad could hardly wait to get undressed and jack off. His cock grew hard as soon as he clasped it in his hand, a few strokes making it as solid as a rock.
He interrupted his masturbation only long enough to apply some lube to his aching prick. Then he sank back on the bed and he settled in for a good, long hand job session. He slid his taut foreskin back from his glans and he began to flail away, exuberantly, on his erection.
But he was too excited to last for as long as he wanted to.
Just thinking about Sandor, his handsome young face, his body—especially his round, muscular ass—quickly brought Konrad to the brink of orgasm. I’m fucking his tight, hot ass, Konrad told himself. Getting ready to come in his ass. Christ, I’m there, I’m coming, already! Can’t hold it back—! Pumping his fist more forcefully on his prick pushing himself over the edge, he soon sent a flood of seminal fluid gushing out of the head of his cock.
Konrad sagged back on the mattress, enjoying the usual lazy aftermath of a self-induced ejaculation. His loins throbbed and the head of his cock smoldered, deliciously. His pecs and abs, his hand, were covered with his cum.
He was trying to summon the energy and will power to abandon his languid posture, and get up and go into the bathroom to clean up, when his phone rang.
The caller was Gregor, his closeted married john.
“Can I see you tonight?” Gregor inquired, breathlessly.
“Well—” Konrad stalled for a moment, during which he debated with himself, about whether he was up to turning a trick, now that he’d blown his wad. Talk about bad timing! If only Gregor had called him a little earlier.
“I know it’s short notice. Please. I’ll pay you an extra ten thousand,” Gregor said. “I’ll give you seventy thousand, total. I really need to get some kind of, ah, you know, satisfaction tonight.” [Seventy thousand forints is about two hundred and forty-six US dollars.]
“Oh, I know exactly what you mean, my friend,” Konrad acknowledged. After all, he’d been in a state of frenzied need himself, only a few minutes previously! “I just got home from the gym,” he told Gregor. “Give me time to jump in the shower. At least twenty minutes, okay? Don’t get here before then.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
Gregor hung up. Apparently, it didn’t occur to him to ask why, if Konrad had presumably showered before leaving the gym, he needed to shower again, so soon. But Konrad assumed that lust had made the man’s blood leave his brain and flow down to his dick, interfering with clear, logic thinking—a phenomenon with which Konrad was all too familiar himself.
He showered, and then he made sure that the bedroom was in a decent condition in which to entertain company. The sheets were overdue to be changed, anyway. For seventy thousand forints, Gregor deserved to amuse himself with Konrad on clean ones. Naked, with his skin still flushed and glowing, and lightly perspiring after the long, hot shower he’d enjoyed, Konrad stripped the bed, tossed the soiled sheets and pillow cases into his laundry basket, along with his sweat-soaked, odorous gym clothes, and he put a set of clean sheets and pillow cases on the bed.
There wasn’t any point in getting fully dressed. Konrad pulled on a favorite pair of old, frequently laundered, well broken in sweatpants, which he often wore when he alone in the apartment. Comfortably barefoot and bare-chested, not even bothering to tie the elastic waistband of the sweats around his waist, he padded into his kitchen, where he uncorked a bottle of wine.
He’d treated himself to no more than a couple of sips before his intercom chimed, announcing Gregor’s arrival. Konrad went to buzz him through the lobby door of the apartment building, and he cracked open his front door, ready to let Gregor in when the man stepped out of the elevator and came down the hallway.
Konrad greeted his john with a light but provocative kiss on the lips, a preview of coming attractions. Gregor, who was no fool, took advantage of this opportunity to hug Konrad and run his hands down from his bare shoulders, over his bare back, to his buttocks, which Gregor groped through the soft fabric of the seat of the sweatpants.
“You look so hot,” Gregor commented. “Too bad you can’t always run around without a shirt.”
“And you sounded kind of hard up on the phone.”
“I was. I am. My wife’s gone out on the town with some of her girlfriends. Girls’ night out, you know? So I saw my chance—to see you again.”
“I’m glad you called,” Konrad purred, seductively. “This can be your boys’ night out, and you wife will never have to know. Want something to drink? I’m having a little wine. But I’m well stocked with beer and hard liquor, if you’d rather have that.”
“Maybe just a quick glass of the wine,” Gregor said. “To put me in the mood.”
Konrad smiled. “I’d say you’re already in the mood. But wine, sure, coming right up.”
They sat in the living room and drank. Gregor had seated himself right next to Konrad, on the couch. The married man was very free with his hands. While holding his wineglass in one hand, he placed the other hand on Konrad’s leg, fondling his knee or his thigh through the sweatpants. The hand wandered higher, over the bodybuilder’s massive, chiseled bared torso, restlessly rubbing his abs, his pecs, his shoulders. Whenever he set his wineglass down on the coffee table, Gregor employed both of his hands. In between his other caresses, he toyed with Konrad’s big, stiff nipples.
Konrad did nothing to discourage the other man. He drank his wine, while he thought about the seventy thousand forints which Gregor was going to pay him, and what he could spend them on. Giving sex away for free, Konrad had begun to conclude, was foolish. It was a luxury he ought to start indulging in only occasionally, when the other guy was really hot. Otherwise, he should let the men who admired him, who desired him, pay for it. Why shouldn’t they?
“Your cock is hard,” Gregor observed, excitedly. “It’s making a big lump, there inside your sweats. It’s pushing up and out, against the cloth. It looks as though it’s feeling rather confined, in there.”
“It is.”
“Can I take it out?”
“Of
course you can.” Konrad almost added, You’re paying for it, after all. So do with it what you will! But he bit his lip, restraining himself. It wouldn’t do to speak so crassly to such an easygoing, generous john.
With the waistband tie already unfastened, Gregor had no trouble pulling down Konrad’s sweatpants, to expose the base of his torso—his cum gutters, his pubic bush, and his genitals. Konrad’s stiff dick sprang out, hard and proud, indeed looking as though it was grateful to be freed from the prison of the sweats and allowed to get some air. Below his bloated, throbbing, veiny shaft, Konrad’s balls were drawn up tight against the base of his erection, swollen inside their crinkled, hairy sac of flesh.
“Feels good to have my junk out in the open,” Konrad said.
“Looks good, too,” Gregor gasped.
Gregor’s warm, slightly sweat-moistened hand had already claimed Konrad’s prick as its prize. Peeling the bodybuilder’s sheath of foreskin down around the upper part of his shaft to bare his glans, Gregor manipulated the cock, his fist massaging it energetically from its base to its tip. Konrad suppressed a groan of pleasure as he raised his wineglass to his lips and took a good swig of the potent vintage. Gregor was damn good at giving a guy a hand job, Konrad had to admit. Konrad still regretted that Sandor hadn’t been available this evening, to join him for some hot bodybuilder-on-bodybuilder sex play. But Gregor wasn’t too bad, as a last-minute substitute!
“Jerk that big hard muscle cock of mine,” Konrad invited the other man.
“Look, you’re dripping cum, already.”
“So I see.”
“God, you’re sexy,” Gregor whispered, his hand stroking more rapidly on Konrad’s prick. “And your dick’s so hard! Work mine, stud. Make mine hard, too.”
“Unzip your pants and whip it out, dude, and I will.”
Frantically, Gregor interrupted his masturbation of Konrad long enough to use both of his hands to unfasten his belt buckle, pop open the waistband button of his trousers, and unzip his fly. With his pants spread open in a wide V-shape, Gregor lifted his butt from the couch cushion high enough to pull his trousers and boxer shorts down to his knees. He sat back down again, hard, his bare buttocks sinking into the cushion. He spread his legs, in the space between the couch and the coffee table. He reached for Konrad’s cock again, while the bodybuilder placed his own hand in Gregor’s lap, taking a firm hold on his prick.
Konrad’s hand was calloused, the result of so many hours spent gripping the machine-knurled surfaces of barbells and dumbbells. Sometimes he wore lifting gloves, but usually he hefted the weights barehanded, maybe with a little gym chalk, which was actually magnesium carbonate, applied to his hands, first. The hardened skin on his fingers and palms provided an extra frisson of sensation, whenever he masturbated and caressed his own body while doing so, or when he played with a sex partner’s flesh.
“Oh, your big cock in my hand, and your hard hand on my dick,” Gregor moaned. The guy was in ecstasy. By Konrad’s standards, what they were doing to each other—mutual masturbation—however hot it was, it was really kid stuff, mere foreplay, a prelude to what Konrad thought of as “real” sex—sucking, rimming, and fucking! But Gregor seemed happy, for now, which was what counted. The customer was always right!
Konrad went on expertly massaging the married man’s member, which had quickly achieved its maximum tumescence, forming a satisfying fistful in his grip. It was time, though, Konrad decided, to up the ante.
“Get down there and put my cock in your mouth, man,” Konrad suggested.
Letting out a moan, Gregor got down on his knees.
“Yeah,” Konrad gasped, placing his hand on the back of the guy’s head and pulling his face forward, guiding his lips to his cock. “Open wide and take it all.”
Gregor took the cock knob between his lips, hungrily, and he eased his mouth down around the penis until he had half of the shaft inside his mouth. His fingertips dug into Konrad’s buttocks.
“The rest,” Konrad insisted, sternly, looking down at Gregor. “Take the rest inside your mouth. Choke on it, if you have to. But suck it! Come on, you know you want to. And jerk on yours while you suck on mine, dude.”
Konrad supposed that this was, in a sense, compensatory sex. He’d wanted Sandor. He had Gregor. There was no need to be ungrateful. He might as well make the most of being with Gregor, of being the object of the man’s lust.
“Uh, yeah, slobber all over that frigging muscle cock of mine,” Konrad coached his john. “Get it good and wet, soak that motherfucking thing in your spit! And get the head of it down into your throat. Gag on that meat, you cocksucker.”
Abjectly, Gregor did everything Konrad told him to do.
“Next, I’m going to sit on your face, and you’re going to eat out my ass,” Konrad announced, in a firm tone of voice which left no room for dissent. “Then—if you do a good job of rimming me—I’ll fuck your ass. I’m kind of worked up, tonight,” he added, honestly enough. “You might as well get the benefit from it.”
Konrad used the man’s willing body for over an hour, venting his erotic energy upon him. Konrad’s earlier masturbation had only whetted his appetite. He was wild with lust, but the married man matched him in frenzied abandon.
Gregor certainly seemed to be a satisfied customer, when he eventually paid Konrad and left.
The following evening, though, Konrad felt sexed up all over again, when Sandor reported for duty.
Seated side by side on Konrad’s couch, the two bodybuilders began to make out, kissing, and fondling each other through their clothes. Roughly, Konrad opened Sandor’s pants and hauled out the blond boy’s dick, claiming it as his own property.
The prick in his hand was as stiff and inflexible as a ramrod, and the head of it was wet with leaked pre-cum.
The kid’s got a big piece of meat, Konrad gloated. Yeah, that thing is man-sized, all right! Lucky for him, he’s hooked up with a guy who knows just how to handle it.
Within seconds, Konrad had his own cock out. The two men’s mouths broke apart. Sandor was breathing hard and fast, his pelvis jerking in instinctive motions, imitative of fucking.
“Oh, hell,” he gasped. “You hand on my dick, Konrad! It feels so damn good! Work my dick for me—!”
“And you stroke mine,” Konrad insisted.
“Beating off together—!”
“That’s right.”
“Oh, this is driving me crazy, big guy!”
“Don’t fight it, boy. Give in to it. Let yourself go.”
“Oh, Konrad—!”
A hoarse, stifled cry of relief and delight escaped from Sandor’s throat. His thick cockshaft pulsed violently in Konrad’s grip. The exposed cockhead swelled and twitching, a clear warning sign. And then the young muscle pup came, his semen spurting free from his piss slit and flying through the air in a wet white arc, before gravity brought it splattering down.
While his fist pumped Sandor’s prick dry, Konrad felt his own orgasm surge up from his loins. The pressure inside his cock increased, becoming almost painful.
“I’m going to come, too,” he gasped.
“In my mouth—I want it in my mouth,” Sandor demanded.
“Yeah!” Impulsively, Konrad pushed Sandor’s head down toward his crotch, offering him his bloated glans. Whimpering with desire, Sandor opened his lips wide, only to close them snugly again around the cockhead which he had sucked inside his mouth. The first touch of those lips and that tongue on his cock flesh made Konrad shoot off. A torrent of hot cum flowed out of him, filling Sandor’s eager, hungry mouth.
They rested, breathing hard. Konrad was delighted because his young playmate had swallowed every drop of his jism. Sandor’s cock was still rigid, as was Konrad’s.
“Jesus, we were in such a hurry, so hot for each other, we didn’t even take our clothes off,” Konrad pointed out. He put his arm around Sandor’s neck and hugged him. “Come on, let’s continue this in the bedroom.”
In the bedroom, they she
d their clothes, and then they stood naked beside the bed, facing each other, their pricks still angled sharply upward, more semen still dripping from each glans.
Konrad grabbed Sandor by the neck of his sturdy neck, pulled their faces together, and kissed the blond guy quite aggressively on the mouth, raping the interior of the mouth with his tongue. Eagerly, Sandor responded to the kiss.
“On the bed,” Konrad panted, after his lips broke their contact with Sandor’s lips. “Get your ass on that bed, and get ready to be fucked.”
“How do you want me?” Sandor asked. “What position?”
“On your back, with your legs up in the air, your glutes spread, and your fuckhole wide open for my fuckpole,” Konrad replied, crudely. He was too keyed up, too frantic to fuck, to indulge in any romantic sweet talk, or any delaying foreplay. He had to get his cock inside that ass, and the sight of Sandor, obediently carrying out his instructions, arranging his body in the way Konrad wanted, only increased his impatience.
Konrad found his tube of lubricant.
Coating his fingertips with the cool, slippery gel, he reached down between Sandor’s buttocks and he rubbed the lube onto and into his pucker, which twitched and flexed in response to his touch. Konrad inserted his fingers into the ass, working the lube around inside it, making Sandor groan and writhe. Konrad pulled his fingers out of the tight, hot hole and he slicked up his cock with some more of the gel.
“All right,” he announced, leaning forward and getting into fucking position. “We’re good to go.” He looked down at the beautiful young man who was about to surrender his ass to him, and he felt a dizzying surge of pure lust sweep through him.
“Fuck me,” Sandor whispered. “But don’t hurt me—okay?”
“Okay. Relax, Sandor. Just don’t fight it, and I’ll go in nice and easy,” Konrad promised. Reaching down and curling his fingers around the thick base of his cock, with his other hand he pried apart Sandor’s buttocks. Carefully, he inserted his dickhead into the groove between those enticing, creamy-skinned ass cheeks. The blond bodybuilder shuddered when he felt the oversized glans of the other muscle man’s penis start to press its way through his anal pucker.
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