Musclebros

by Emeric Varady

  “You’ve found yourself a new protégé, I see,” Markus murmured, so that only Jozsef could hear him.

  “You mean Nikola? Well, he’s young and eager. He’s got promise. Do you like him?” Jozsef asked.

  “He’s sweet.”

  “He needs more experience. I don’t mean just in weight training, I mean sexually. That’s what I wanted him to come to this party.”

  Markus raised his eyebrows. “More experience than you can give him?”

  Jozsef chortled. “More variety in sex partners, might be a more accurate way to put it. That’s why I wouldn’t mind it—in fact, I’d quite like it—if you would feel free to amuse yourself with him, before the party’s over. That might help the boy to get over his shyness.”

  “Yeah, he’s got that awestruck, hero-worshipping muscle pup thing going for him, doesn’t he?” Markus remarked. “Well, purely as a favor to you, Jozsef, I guess I could bring myself to fool around with the kid. Unlike you, I don’t usually believe in robbing the cradle, like a dirty old man, the kind who prowls around the gym looking for really young dick to prey upon—!”

  “Oh, nice mouth!” Jozsef protested.

  “But I could force myself to make an exception, in this case.”

  “Very big of you. I knew I could count on you to be magnanimous,” Jozsef said, his sarcasm matching Markus’s own.

  Nikola and Otto had completed their sets of squats. Breathing hard, perspiring freely, Otto seemed not at all tired, though, but rather invigorated.

  He gave Nikola a congratulatory, comradely hug and slap on the back, and then he turned to the other guests.

  “Okay—who’s next?” Otto asked. “Arpad, why don’t you and Markus load some plates on that pressing bench, and show us what you two can do? I’m sure we’d all like to see you men work those big pecs of yours. A light amount of weight at first, maybe ninety kilograms. [Translator’s note: approximately two hundred pounds.] You can start with a few sets of light bench presses, to warm up. And progress from there.”

  “Sure,” Markus replied. As he and Arpad placed a barbell on the bench’s upright supports, and loaded it with weights, they exchanged knowing glances.

  Each suspected he knew what the other man was thinking. The way Otto kept looking at them, and also at Gusztav and Nikola, suggested that the guy wasn’t just admiring their physiques. He wants to get his hands on them, and fondle some of that “fine young Hungarian manhood” he’d mentioned. Markus, for one, didn’t intend to discourage him. Otto was a hot number, hot as fuck, and Markus was sure that Arpad wouldn’t be averse to getting physical with the massively muscular older man, either.

  As for Nikola, he was wide-eyed, all agog at being in the presence of Otto and the other muscle men. Otto had deigned to spot Nikola while he’d squatted, which to a starstruck physique fan like Nikola was probably almost as good as actual sex with the celebrity!

  “This isn’t much weight, even for a warmup,” Markus said.

  Arpad grinned at him. “Start pumping, buddy. We’ll increase the weight after each set. And then we’ll see who can lift more!”

  “That’s the kind of competitive spirit I like to see,” Otto exclaimed.

  Arpad spotted Markus, while Markus bench pressed, warming up.

  Markus hadn’t been wrong about Arpad’s response to Otto.

  With Otto revealingly clad in sweatpants, a tank top, and training shoes, Arpad could see that the huge pro bodybuilder had a truly fantastic physique. It was what Arpad himself aspired to. He knew that he didn’t have anything to be ashamed about in that department now, and that he could hold his own quite nicely against the average young Hungarian muscle man. Still, Otto, like his friend Jozsef, wasn’t just big—he was impressively ripped, as though he didn’t seem to know the meaning of the term “body fat.”

  Once Markus had completed his warmup sets, Arpad took over. The two young men, making good use of the various pieces of equipment, and lifting increasingly heavy weights, set down to real work. At first it was a harmless enough workout, with the guys pairing off to offer each other encouragement and training tips, or volunteering to act as spotters while one of them did a potentially dangerous exercise, such as bench pressing with heavy weights for extra, forced reps. Arpad found himself working up a good sweat, although he was getting so muscular that the relatively light weights he was using on this occasion didn’t particularly fatigue him.

  Instead, he found himself getting horny. The sight and smell of the other hard male bodies, their workout clothes plastered against their muscles with sweat, grunting and gasping while they hefted the weights—that began to excite the well-built stud, who had already had sex with two of these guys—Markus and Gusztav, and who had to admit that he found the others—Jozsef, Nikola, and, especially, the glamorous imported celebrity, Otto—equally attractive. Every guy in the place, Arpad told himself, feverishly. I’d like to go right ahead and have every guy in the place, one after the other. I want to fuck them all! Why not?

  Because it’s disgusting, that’s why! It’s excessive—I’m letting myself get out of control. I’m behaving like a whore. A promiscuous slut. A cum dump!

  Maybe Markus won’t like it, if I whore around too much. Especially with his buddy, Jozsef.

  But—on the other hand—Markus is no better than I am, so if he doesn’t like it, he can just go fuck himself. And, what the hell? This is supposed to be a sex party, after all! Where anything goes.

  Wish we’d get started with the actual sex—!

  Yeah, I’m impatient. I want some cock! Damn, what kind of a sex fiend am I turning into?

  But Arpad didn’t have long to speculate about his hyperactive libido, because, inevitably, one of the other athletes began to get a little itchy and frisky during his rest break, and this uninhibited muscle man was bold enough to put his lewd thoughts into action. Not so coincidentally, this instigator was the owner of the gym and the host of the party.

  “I’m so sweated. Dripping wet. Soaked through. I’m too fucking hot,” Jozsef declared, a bit breathlessly, as he set a heavily loaded barbell back in its rack, and then he straightened up and swaggered into the center of the weight room, grinning at the other men, who automatically paused in what they were doing to glance up at him.

  They were rewarded when Jozsef unbuckled his wide leather lifting belt, flung it to the floor, and unfastened the drawstring at the waist of his sweatpants. He let the sweats slide down his huge, tree-trunk thighs to his ankles, before kicking them off.

  “Yes, you’d better cool off,” Otto advised, staring lustfully at his friend. “You don’t want to risk heat stroke.”

  “God, no. That’s better,” Jozsef announced. He proceeded to peel off his tank top, baring his thickly muscled torso and sleek, hairless pecs. Throwing aside the sweat-soaked rag of a shirt, Jozsef leaned forward and removed his training shoes and socks, and then he stood back up, legs wide apart, arms held out at his sides, automatically posing and flexing for the other athletes’ benefit.

  Arpad had to admit that the big man had a lot to show off. Clinging to Jozsef’s hips was his only remaining garment, a jockstrap, the narrow elastic waistband of which barely held in place the nylon genital pouch, filled to overflowing with Jozsef’s cock and balls. Even relaxed, his sexual equipment looked huge, and Arpad found himself staring appreciatively at the highly provocative display.

  “Still in contest form, Jozsef, I see,” Otto remarked.

  “I do try to maintain it,” Jozsef murmured. “After all, you never know when you may be called up to provide an exhibition—in public, or in private.”

  “You have the most amazing body I’ve ever seen! Why don’t you pose for us, Jozsef?” Nikola suggested, humbly, but with barely concealed excitement. “You, too, Otto, please. We don’t often get a chance to see a couple of championship physiques like yours—! And certainly not this close up.”

  “Very well, if you insist,” Jozsef responded, good-humoredly. “I’ll do it,
if you will, Otto. We’ll put on our own little show, shall we? We’ll go through all of the mandatory contest poses. You younger men, you must tell us old iron pumpers if you find us lacking in any of them.”

  Otto was agreeable. He too stripped down to his sweaty jockstrap, eliciting excited stares from the four younger men in the weight room.

  Standing side by side, Otto and Jozsef flexed and posed, fluidly transitioning from one muscle-displaying physical attitude into another.

  They had an appreciative audience.

  “Shit, you guys,” Gusztav gasped. “With all due respect—you put the younger competition to shame. You are one hell of a couple of smoking hot muscle studs!”

  “I don’t work out like this, like a dog, because I don’t like to hear compliments, my boy!” Jozsef responded.

  “God, you’re both hot as fuck!” Gusztav swore. His blue eyes darted back and forth, restlessly, between the two nearly naked mature muscle men, comparing them, and admiring them both.

  “Which of us do you like better? No need for you to say it—I can tell,” Jozsef teased Gusztav. “Otto, my friend, I believe you’ve found an admirer. To add to the many of them already served by you.”

  The pink-cheeked Gusztav blushed, his face reddening all the way up to the roots of his blond hair.

  “Guess I’ve still got it, eh, Jozsef, old buddy?” a smug Otto asked Jozsef.

  “Hell, yes! You’re a freaking muscle god, my friend. But then, so am I,” Jozsef bragged, shamelessly.

  “Why don’t we go all the way?” Otto suggested. “Lose these fucking jocks, and just work out naked. In fact, maybe we should all strip down. It’s quite warm in here. No need for any of us to be modest. Or to feel constricted and confined by clothes.”

  Arpad and Markus once again exchanged knowing glances. They’d seen this coming! This was the signal for the party really to get rolling. The only surprise was that it had taken this long!

  Immediately, training shoes and gym clothes were shed, and in less than a minute, all of the men were either naked, or nearly so. In their haste to bare most parts of their bodies, a couple of them retained, for the time being, their socks or jocks, or both. The floor of the weight room was littered with shoes, socks, tank tops, shorts, sweatpants, and jockstraps.

  “Look at us, men,” Arpad said, excitedly. “Look at all of these hot bodies, all the fucking muscles and the big dicks, right here in this one room. It’s incredible.”

  “Manhood—‘fine young Hungarian manhood,’ to quote Otto, yeah! And it’s all going to waste,” Jozsef declared, grinning suggestively. “At least at the moment. Although that wastefulness can be easily rectified. Those muscles and those cocks of yours deserve to be put to good use.”

  “They certainly do,” Otto was quick to agree. “Come on, guys. Let’s fuck!”

  Chapter Fifteen: A Muscle Orgy

  Otto had spoken the magic words. His exclamation “Let’s fuck!” was greeted not as a mere suggestion, but as an imperative, not to be refused.

  The atmosphere in the gym had grown increasingly sensual, and now that sensuality spilled over into explicit, raw sexuality. Nude, or virtually nude, aroused men paired up. They embraced and kissed, their hands eagerly exploring each other’s bodies, paying special attention to firm glute muscles and potent, protruding cocks.

  At first, Jozsef and Otto just stood there, near each other, excitedly observing the younger men as they gave in to their lustful impulses. But then Otto singled out Gusztav, and he approached the young blond bodybuilder.

  “So—you like me, do you, boy?” Otto purred.

  “I like you a lot,” the still-blushing Gusztav admitted.

  “There’s no need for you to be shy. If you’d like me to do anything for you, just come right out and tell me.”

  Otto was offering sex, of course, so he may have been a bit taken aback when his young admirer made a rather different request, first.

  “Then, please, pose for us some more, Otto, if you will,” Gusztav told him. “Give us another chance to see those muscles of yours! Flex them. Let us see them in action, bulging, swelling—! Oh, just the sight of them gets me so fucking hot. So fucking hot, that I’ll do anything you want!”

  Otto smiled. “Want me to go through the mandatory poses again for you? Sure, why not? Watch this—”

  He proceeded to give quite a provocative posing exhibition. Naked and erect, looking like a cross between Hercules and Priapus, the veteran pro bodybuilder treated his appreciative audience to quite a display of muscle!

  “You’re magnificent, man,” Nikola groaned.

  Markus, like a shark attracted to chum in the water, had zeroed in on Nikola. He’d put a “friendly” arm around the young muscle pup’s shoulders and encouraged him to sit down comfortably beside him.

  Now, locked in Markus’s increasingly intimate embrace, Nikola lay with him on one of the padded floor mats. Rubbing his body erotically against Markus’s, he had turned his head to watch Otto’s performance. “If you don’t mind me saying so, no disrespect intended—but for a guy your age, you are so fucking hot!” Nikola blurted out.

  “So, you think this old man’s still got it? I don’t mind being admired, sonny,” Otto said, graciously. “That’s the whole point of bodybuilding, isn’t it? To look good? And—if you’re gay—to attract other men? I like to have my body worshipped. Are any of you men interested in worshipping me?”

  “All of us are,” Jozsef blurted out. “I’d be willing to get down on my knees and lick the sweat off your body, like the hottest, horniest muscle sub you’ve ever dominated, buddy. And that’s only the beginning of what I’d like to do for you with my mouth!”

  Otto laughed. “You’ve had me, Jozsef,” he told his pro bodybuilder buddy. “And very often. Don’t be selfish. Give one of these other men a chance!”

  “Sure, toss me aside, break my heart,” Jozsef complained, facetiously. “You, you sexy blond fucker, you,” Jozsef then addressed Gusztav. “You seem to like Otto. Don’t be shy. You look as though you know how men like Otto and me like to be treated. I assure you, Otto won’t bite—unless that’s what you’re into! Go over there and get better acquainted with him. Much better acquainted.”

  Gusztav got up from the piece of equipment he’d been using, and which he’d remained seated upon during Otto’s posing exhibition. Breathing hard from his exertions, and following the other men’s example, he’d quickly shed most of his workout attire. His creamy pale flesh contrasted to Otto’s rather more dark-complexioned skin color, and, although he couldn’t match the older man’s herculean build, his lithely muscular body was beautifully proportioned. He had stripped down to his jockstrap, and, walking over to Otto, he stood behind him. Placing his hands on Otto’s hips, he moved forward, and, after a moment’s hesitation, very gently and provocatively he nudged the other man’s bare buttocks with his stiffening fuck tool, trapped inside the pouch of the athletic supporter.

  “Do you feel that?” Gusztav inquired, politely.

  Otto grunted. “How can I help it? Christ, you’re hung! I bet you’d like to fuck me, wouldn’t you, boy? Fuck the old man, and breed his horny ass for him?”

  “May I? Really? Then yes, please,” the well-mannered Gusztav gasped.

  “You’re about to get your wish,” Otto promised.

  Arpad watched, intrigued, while Otto lowered his brawny arms and put his hands behind him, blindly groping for Gusztav’s crotch, and, once he found it, cupping the pouch holding the young blond muscle man’s sex organs in his big, warm hands. His fingers caressed Gusztav’s testicles through the elastic, and then, slowly, Otto began to push the jockstrap down, away from Gusztav’s genitals.

  When the athletic supporter slid downward over Gusztav’s thighs, his blond, curly pubic hair sprang into view, and then the base of his stiffened prick appeared, as well. Otto worked the jock down lower, exposing the other guy’s cock inch by inch, until, with a final tug, he freed the penis completely and the thick pro
ng rose into the air and slapped against his naked buttocks, its swollen tip gleaming in the strong illumination from the weight room’s light fixtures.

  “Ah, that’s fine, son,” Otto gasped. “Yeah, that’s a nice big piece of meat! Rub it against me. Let me feel it. Aw, that’s hot! This is what I’ve come to Budapest for. Hot young muscle cock!”

  “If I may ask you—?” Gusztav whispered.

  “Yes, boy?” Otto asked. “Don’t be shy, speak up.”

  “I can’t get enough of seeing you flex! Would you—please—pose for us, some more?” Gusztav begged. “Show us your muscles. Pose for us, like you pose on stage, during a contest.”

  “Sure, my lad. When you ask a bodybuilder to pose—shit, that’s like tossing a dog a ball, and urging him to chase it! In both cases, they’re doing what they love. But I’ll flex only if you agree to pose right along with me, and show yourself off, too. Come on. We’ll run through all of the mandatory poses together! We’ll have ourselves a pose down. Winner takes all! But—you have to lose the jock, first, stud,” Otto told Gusztav, salaciously. “You have to pose naked, like me. Let everything hang out, be free, unencumbered.”

  Gusztav obeyed.

  Then, both nude, Otto and Gusztav flaunted their muscles, shamelessly, displaying their muscular development, striking pose after pose, inviting comparisons.

  “What’s the judges’ verdict?” Otto panted, when the duo was done.

  “Come now,” Jozsef said. “It’s an unfair comparison. You’re older, more experienced, and bigger, Otto. You have an unfair advantage. But Gusztav has a fine build, for a beginner.”

  “Yes, I concede,” Gusztav said, graciously. “Otto’s the champ. But then, we already knew that.”

  “When you’re Jozsef’s age and mine, Gusztav, with more experience, more hard weight training, it may be different. Right now? I see a few of you guys still wearing some clothes. Why? Let’s all get naked, men,” Otto urged. “Strip, you studs. Strip for action!”