Musclebros

by Emeric Varady

  “Of course.”

  Over beer, they talked gym gossip.

  “You seem to have calmed down a bit,” Markus observed.

  “Outwardly, yeah. I guess I was kind of pumped up, before. Inwardly, though, my intentions haven’t changed. I still want us to fuck. Okay?” Arpad inquired, brazenly.

  Markus returned the other guy’s smile. “Okay.”

  “Then I’m ready for you to have your way with me, or vice versa. I assume this place has a bedroom?”

  Markus grinned. “It does indeed. Complete with a bed. Come on.”

  In Markus’s bedroom, both guys quickly shed all their clothes.

  “Look at you,” Arpad remarked, gazing at Markus’s nude body. “You’re so big and ripped, like some of a freaking Greek god. I feel puny, next to you.”

  “Don’t be so modest. You’ve got a hot fucking body, and you damn well know it.”

  “We like each other, do we?” Arpad asked, humorously. “Then let’s do something about it. Look at us,” he went on, salaciously. “We’ve both got big hard boners.”

  “Must be a side effect of all that sexy talk on the phone, earlier,” Markus suggested, facetiously. “Or just plain mutual horniness, here at the present time.”

  “That, too,” Arpad agreed. “Well—now that I’m here—!”

  He seemed a bit awkward, which, coming from such an ordinarily self-confident stud, Markus found amusing, and endearing.

  But then Arpad seemed to recover his usual composure. He stepped closer to where Markus stood beside the bed, and he placed his hands on Markus’s shoulders. A moment later, he was kissing Markus on the mouth. After a second’s token resistance, just to tease the other muscle man, Markus happily gave in and he let Arpad push his tongue between his lips. He moaned with delight while Arpad’s warm, wet tongue explored the interior of his mouth, searching for Markus’s own tongue and sucking on it.

  Aggressively, Markus returned the embrace and the kiss, invading Arpad’s mouth with his own tongue, and running his hands down the other guy’s naked body to pull it against his own bare flesh. Grabbing a double handful of Arpad’s butt cheeks and pressing their groins together brought their stiff dicks into close, potent contact, the rigid prongs rubbing against each other in a way which ratcheted up the two young men’s mutual excitement.

  Markus pressed down on Arpad’s shoulders, urging him to get down on his knees.

  “Blow me!” he told Arpad, impatiently, thrusting a fistful of solid prick at the other young stud’s lips. “If you’re so goddamn horny, if you want sex so bad, then prove it. Get busy with that mouth of yours.”

  Chapter Four: Another Kind of Workout

  “Yeah, get rough with me, if you want,” Arpad moaned. “That’s what I’m in the mood for! Don’t take shit from me. Treat me like your bitch.”

  As Arpad eagerly swallowed his fuck tool, Markus realized that he was so aroused by the other guy, so erotically agitated, that he might not be able to keep himself from coming prematurely. And that would be a damn shame, because he wanted his first sex encounter with Arpad to be a good one, a memorable one, for them both—one which would make Arpad want to repeat the experience, soon and often.

  But Markus, for his own part, was already having trouble pacing himself, holding the pent-up floodtide of his semen in check. Especially with Arpad’s expert cocksucking coaxing the hot sperm out of his prick! The other stud was as masculine-looking and as masculine-acting as anyone could wish—but with Markus’s cock in his mouth and throat, he was behaving in a wanton way which would put some of the hottest man whores in Budapest to shame!

  But Markus was nothing if not self-aware, and honest with himself. He felt as whorish as his new sex partner, every bit as depraved and abandoned. And, at the moment, with Arpad’s busy lips and tongue stimulating him, driving him mad with desire, he certainly felt every bit as potent, too!

  He simply couldn’t hold back his cum. No exertion of will power could have done so. His lust was too impetuous, too irresistible. His ejaculation came in a hot wet foaming rush, taking both him and his cocksucker by surprise. Markus’s first explosion of semen supplied Arpad’s passionately suctioning mouth with a veritable deluge of thick, rich jism, which surged out of Markus’s cock in such foamy, salty abundance that Markus feared he was already done for the night—that he wouldn’t be able to get it up again for Arpad, let alone come again.

  “Sorry,” he gasped, as Arpad’s warm lips kept up their pressure and friction, sucking him dry. “I didn’t mean to come so soon. Or to shoot off in your mouth like that, without warning you.”

  Releasing Markus’s spent cock from between his lips, Arpad groaned. “Don’t be silly. I wanted to swallow your load. Fuck, that tasted good!”

  “You like the taste of cum, huh?”

  “I love it,” Arpad avowed, without shame. “I can never get enough of it.”

  They snuggled together for a moment.

  “Mind if I say something?” Arpad murmured.

  “No, I don’t mind—what?”

  “I know I said this was supposed to be just rebound sex,” Arpad reminded Markus. “You know, impersonal?”

  “Right.”

  “But I do like you, man,” Arpad vowed, fervently. “Maybe—if we agree to take it slow— you’ll want to see me again.”

  “Yeah. I’d like that. I’d like to see you again, soon, and as often as possible,” Markus agreed. “As often you want, that is. What kind of a stuck-up bitch do you think I am? The kind of guy who’s only interested in a one-night stand?”

  “No. I hope not.”

  “Well, I’m not like that. So relax. We can have fun.”

  “Thank God you feel that way,” Arpad breathed.

  “I don’t know why a guy like you is so insecure.”

  “Ordinarily, with other men, I’m not. It’s just that—Markus, you’re so fucking beautiful. So fucking hot! I can’t believe my luck.”

  Markus chuckled. “Flatterer! You’re not exactly a slouch, yourself. Come here. Hold me. Kiss me. Maybe that’ll convince you, how much I like you—!”

  They writhed together, the hot, sweaty contact of their naked bodies re-arousing them both.

  “Shit,” Markus moaned. “I’m getting hard, all over again. Your fault. Guess I’m not done yet.”

  “Neither am I. I’m hard, too.”

  “Yeah, I can feel it.”

  “What’re we going to do about it?” Arpad asked.

  “I can think of something.” Markus boldly took the other guy’s hard-on in his hand and he stroked it, making Arpad suck in his breath and whimper with pleasure. “Nice,” Markus declared. “I bet this thing would feel good in my mouth.”

  “One way to find out,” Arpad responded, heatedly.

  Markus was torn, indecisive. He wouldn’t have minded sucking Arpad’s dick. Not at all!

  But Markus also wanted to have his butt plugged. Desperately! That insistent urge prevailed, deciding the matter for him. He raised his ass from the cushion formed by Arpad’s upper thighs. He kept Arpad’s cock aimed upward, and he slid forward until he estimated that the hard dick in his fist was positioned approximately where he wanted—directly under his ass crack and pointing up at it, like a phallic weapon ready to be discharged.

  When he again lowered his butt, Markus felt the head of the penis slip into the cleft between his two sculptured buttocks, and then the glans nuzzled against the pucker of his sphincter rim, deep within that crevice.

  “Fuck me,” Markus urged, in a throaty whisper. “Fuck me, Arpad!”

  He sat more of his weight down on the other guy’s swollen shaft. His sphincter stretched, slipping like a hungry mouth over the massive cockhead of the other hard-muscled stud. Markus applied more leverage, letting his own body weight impale him on the spike of unyielding phallic flesh, aware of the width of the cockhead as it entered him—and then the following inches of solid, thick shaft began their slide up into his rectum from below.


  Arpad groaned. “I thought you were going to suck me,” he protested.

  “Disappointed?”

  “Hardly!”

  “I’ll blow you any time you want,” Markus vowed. “Maybe you don’t like my ass,” he teased Arpad. “Maybe it doesn’t stimulate you—?”

  “Are you kidding? It’s incredible.”

  “Then I’ll give you a rain check on the suck job. Go ahead and screw me, stud.”

  “I’m going to! You’ve gotten me so worked up, I don’t think I could stop now if I wanted to! It’s just that I’m hung pretty big, if I do say so myself, and your asshole feels really tight. Which is good for me, of course! But are you sure you can take me without greasing my cock up first?”

  “I’m really hot for it, man, probably because I’m been thinking about this, looking forward to it, for so long,” Markus said. “Don’t worry about me, buddy. My asshole can suck your dick for you just as well as my mouth can!”

  And Markus went on to prove his point, by flexing everything he had under his conscious control—his sphincter muscles, his buttocks, the anal muscles he used to relieve himself—the works! Arpad groaned with lust when his cock was gripped and stroked and caressed by the steady pressure, and Markus’s anus squirmed around his shaft like a huge, hot tongue writhing around the other guy’s fuck pole.

  “Yeah! Oh, yeah! Fuck yourself on my frigging cock!” Arpad grunted.

  “Uh, I just knew, the very first time we met,” Markus gasped, lewdly, “that’d you know how to throw a really good, hard fuck into another guy!”

  “You like it? Then take it, stud!” Arpad growled.

  He pressed his head back into the mattress, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth to pant out his pleasure. His chest worked up and down like a bellows from his labored breathing. His mane of tousled hair fell over his forehead and to either side of his face on the bed. His fingers roamed blindly over Markus’s body, finding and grasping the other man’s uprisen cock, which sprang up from Markus’s crotch like an extension of the long, thick phallic mass which his fucker was pumping in and out of his butt.

  Arpad wrapped his fingers around Markus’s sexual ramrod, offering it a fist to fuck, just as his own cock was screwing Markus’s asshole. Markus’s prick felt full and heavy in Arpad’s fist, its head and shaft still slippery with Markus’s recently lost sperm. Arpad held tightly onto it, timing his hand strokes to coincide excitingly with the bouncing of Markus’s tight manhole up and down around his own swollen meat.

  “Fuck me, dude!” Markus demanded. Recklessly, he corkscrewed his asshole around the prick inside him, the ferocious action milking the other young man’s cock of more of its pre-ejaculatory fluids, which helped to lubricate and soothe Markus’s fuck-irritated anal lining. “Uh, hell, Arpad—fuck me raw!”

  “I like to fuck you, Markus. I like a guy who can take it, and beg for more,” Arpad spat out. He basked in the pleasure of fucking the other stud, finding it hard to believe that such an attractive, ordinarily well-manned young man could become such a slutty sex pig in bed.

  “It feels so damn good!” Markus cried, continuing to fuck himself energetically on the full length of Arpad’s ramrod.

  “I’m close,” Arpad warned, like Markus wishing it could go on forever, but actually surprised that he hadn’t already lost his load to Markus’s demanding ass long before.

  “That’s all right! Go ahead. Come in me! Let your cock shoot off in my ass!”

  “Then take it, man—I’m coming!” Arpad roared.

  His hand went wild in its steady friction, back and forth, on Markus’s firm cockshaft. His own prick blasted out its first thick wad of hot cum, while Markus’s anus was in the process of gliding in an upward stroke around it, until only the head of Arpad’s dick was still inside him, still stretching his sphincter rim wide open.

  Feeling the wetness of the sperm against his asshole’s puckered opening, hearing the groans of orgasmic pleasure from the beautiful young muscle stud on whom he was impaled, and aware of his own impending eruption, Markus quickly drove his buttocks down hard again, all the way. He shuddered deliciously as his ass spasmed frantically against the bulk of the prickshaft which was going off deep inside him like a stick of phallic dynamite. His insides turned wet and slippery, coated generously with the steady outpouring of Arpad’s gushing sperm, telling Markus how thoroughly he was being bred.

  Then Markus’s own balls let go. Even while the last spurts of Arpad’s manly cream were pouring into him, albeit less forcefully than the first discharge, Markus’s masturbated cock released a torrent of white, potent liquid. His cum splattered onto Arpad’s chest, the white streaks of semen slashing across his sweaty skin before they began to melt and drip downward. The semen also wet Arpad’s fingers, which continued to pump on Markus’s exploding cock.

  The two men came together like that, both of them shaking and spurting their way through their mutual lustful release, locked in a sexual wrestling bout. Neither of them felt any significant ebbing of the fierce erotic forces at work within them. If anything, their orgasms seemed to make them hotter, hornier, more desperate to enjoy each other’s bodies and cocks.

  And so it proved, as they made love at intervals, with periods of rest in between, throughout the night.

  Markus concluded that Arpad’s lover was a damn fool, to have let a guy like Arpad get away from him. But his loss was Markus’s gain.

  Chapter Five: A Muscular Masseur

  Markus received a phone call from Lajos, a young guy who manned the computer and the phone at the escort agency, arranging the appointments. Lajos was a good-looking number with an alert manner and a suave, seductive-sounding phone voice, which no doubt was an asset on his job.

  Markus had once asked him why he didn’t hustle.

  Lajos had just laughed. “Not after some of the horror stories I’ve heard from you guys about your dealings with certain clients! Anyway, when I’m involved with a guy, I prefer us to be faithful to each other. No screwing around on the side, not even for money. An old-fashioned concept, I know, but there you have it.”

  Markus supposed he was fortunate in that—so far!—he didn’t really have any horror stories to tell about unpleasant customers.

  He’d told the agency that he’d be available for work that evening. And, sure enough, Lajos had a gig for him.

  “I’ve got a guy from out of town,” Lajos told Markus. “He’s staying at the Aria.” That was one of Budapest’s more prestigious hotels. “He’s here on business. I guess he comes here regularly. He’s a foreigner, a German. Speaks pretty decent Hungarian, but also English, and since you’re very good in English, I figured the two of you ought to be able to communicate well enough—outside of bed. The only thing is, he’s specifically requesting ‘a muscular masseur.’ I know you’ve got the muscles, Markus, to spare. But we haven’t ever promoted you as a masseur. He’s seen your photos, and he likes your looks. But I stalled—told him I’d doublecheck to make you’re available. Can you be a masseur, for one night, big guy?”

  “I can fake it,” Markus assured him. “I’ll do my best to give the dude a convincing rubdown. And then I’ll help him to rub one out, if that’s what he wants. Which I assume is the whole idea.”

  “No doubt! Good. I’ll call the guy back and tell him to expect you. His name’s Dietrich, by the way. He told me he has everything you’ll need for the massage—towels, of course, the hotel provides those—and the kind of oil he likes. ‘All I need is the stud,’ was the way he put it. He sounded okay. You know, eager, but not weird in any way? Oh, and he wants to meet you in the hotel’s bar. So you can have a drink with him, first. He knows what you look like, so he’ll approach you.”

  “Fine.”

  Lajos gave Markus the details, of the tryst.

  So that he’d look as though he belonged in such an upscale establishment, Markus changed his clothes, putting on an outfit which was casual, but still nice.

  Arriving at the hotel, ten
minutes before he was expected, Markus strolled into the elegantly decorated bar. He did his best to suggest that he belonged in such an ambience, and that he was perfectly at home in it. He glanced around, but none of the drinkers made eye contact with him. He seated himself at a table.

  “I’m expecting a gentleman to join me,” he said, when the waiter approached.

  “Very good, sir.”

  Markus didn’t have to wait long. A man in an expensive-looking suit, carrying a briefcase, came into the room. When he saw Markus, he smiled at him and walked to his table. Markus rose.

  “Markus?” the man inquired.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Dietrich. I know you from your photos, of course.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  They shook hands, and sat down.

  “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” Dietrich said.

  “Not, not at all.”

  “Good. I was afraid I’d be late. I just got out of my last meeting for the day. But of course, the people I’m doing business with wanted to chit-chat, so I couldn’t get away immediately. Now I can relax.”

  During this conversation, which the two men carried on in English, Markus had an opportunity to size up his john. He was pleasantly surprised. Dietrich spoke in an animated manner, and he seemed quite relaxed already, showing no signs of self-consciousness. That was always a good sign, at the start of a rendezvous with an unfamiliar client. Sometimes there was an initial awkwardness which had to be overcome. But Dietrich was entirely at ease. Markus suspected that he was accustomed to hiring escorts.

  Which was surprising, because the German was a young man, probably only a year or two over thirty, handsome, and—the most pleasant surprise—extremely well built. His well-tailored suit didn’t conceal the fact that he had an impressively muscled physique in his own right. Dietrich was a redhead, with a stylish haircut and an immaculately trimmed pencil mustache adorning his upper lip. He had a ruddy complexion. He wore diamond studs in his pierced earlobes.