by Milton Stern
Once in the basement, he was happy to see that for the most part his equipment was still where he left it.
He loaded a couple of plates on the bar and secured them with collars. He decided to stretch a bit, and when he bent down to touch his toes he looked through his legs and saw Louis, stark naked and standing right behind him. Adam immediately stood up and turned around.
Louis was standing there with his dick hanging limp but low accompanied by two big, equally low hanging balls, and he was holding a cup of coffee.
“Adam, the man,” Louis said. “I took some of your aromatic java.” He then turned around and headed back upstairs.
Adam was only pissed because he would now have to brew more coffee.
He slid under the bar and pressed the weights for twelve reps, and he sat up after the set and admired himself in the mirror he had mounted across from the bench. Adam ran his hands over his chest and down his six pack abs. He then flexed both biceps, displaying the high peaks that always earned him attention in the gym at school.
He lay back down and did another twelve reps. With each set, he looked in the mirror and flexed his pecs, bouncing them before doing another double bicep pose.
Adam stood up and removed some of the plates and curled the barbell for ten reps very slowly, keeping his eyes on the vein that ran up his arm. Watching his biceps pump full of blood always turned him on, and his jock was beginning to get tighter.
He put the bar down, and flexed again, doing a crab pose, flaring out his lats and finishing off with another double bicep pose. Adam then did another set of curls.
During his third set, he heard Louis coming down the steps. Adam finished the set and put the bar back. This time Louis was sitting in front of the mirror drinking another cup of coffee, blocking Adam’s view of himself. ‘Fucking asshole,’ he thought, ‘Drinks my coffee and interrupts my workout.’ However, Adam didn’t confront him because Louis was still naked.
“Can I help you, Louis?” he asked.
Silence.
Louis just stared at Adam, studying every inch of him. Adam noticed how Louis was looking at him and didn’t know what to make of it.
“Louis, you’re sitting in front of the mirror, and I can’t watch myself when I work out.”
Louis turned and looked at the mirror as if he did not know it was there. He stood up and leaned on an old dresser that was placed in the basement a decade before.
“Louis, are you just going to stand there?” Adam asked him.
Again, silence.
Adam did another set of curls, watching himself in the mirror when he noticed Louis standing behind him. Louis reached around and felt Adam’s biceps with each curl of the bar, running his hands over the pumped muscles. Adam continued his set, enjoying the feel of his stepbrother’s hands on his muscles, and he started to get hard again.
Adam curled until he was exhausted, then he put the bar back on the rack. As he looked at himself in the mirror, Louis continued to explore his body with his hands.
Louis felt his stepbrother’s lats, tracing his fingers up Adam’s muscular back, then he squeezed Adam’s softball sized shoulders, and as one hand made its way up Adam’s neck the other reached around to feel Adam’s pumped chest.
As Louis continued exploring his body, Adam’s breathing became heavier. He let his stepbrother enjoy every sweaty, pumped inch of him and finally, Louis’s hand was inside the black cotton jock strap and going for the prize.
As he released his stepbrother’s enormous boner, Louis stepped around and brushed his lips against Adam’s. Adam opened his mouth and reached around Louis’s head drawing him in and kissing him deep, tasting the coffee the asshole had taken without permission. With his free hand, Adam reached down and grabbed the weirdo’s hard dick and was impressed with its length and girth. Adam slid his hand up to the swollen head and slicked it with the precum Louis’s big dick generously provided.
Louis had managed to get Adam’s jock down around his ankles, and they continued to make out while stroking each other’s dicks. Louis’s free hand continued to explore Adam’s pumped body and found a nipple, giving it a hard pull. Adam moaned, but he did not let go of Louis’s mouth. Those full, soft lips were too good to let loose even for a second.
He let go of Louis’s head and flexed his right bicep while his stepbrother felt it with his left hand, as they continued to kiss. Louis obviously liked the feel of flexed muscles because his dick would swell and pulse, emitting more precum whenever Adam flexed. This in turn made Adam’s thick cock swell up, and he didn’t know how much longer he could last.
Their breathing increased, and the stepbrothers were getting closer, but they never unlocked their lips.
Finally, Louis pulled away from Adam’s lips and screamed, “AHHH AHHH AHHH,” so loud it startled Adam. Then he shot his load covering Adam’s belly and chest with pints of cum. The site of his stepbrother’s load on his pumped chest made Adam shoot all over Louis, who groaned while Adam was shooting, “You are such a good boy, oh yeah, good boy, good boy.” Then, there was silence.
They pulled away from each other, and Adam grabbed a towel to wipe himself off, but Louis stopped him. He bent down and licked his stepbrother’s body clean. After he finished his breakfast of cum, he winked at Adam, turned and walked back upstairs without saying a word.
Adam stood there with his half-hard cock hanging out and his black cotton jock at his ankles and watched Louis’s round butt bounce as he walked upstairs.
“What a fucking nut job,” Adam thought. Then he smiled and hoped all his workouts would end like this one.
SCRUBBING UP
I had just come home from a business trip and was still wound up from days of meetings and travel. Normally, I would have had a martini then crashed for the night, but I hadn’t worked out in a few days, so I decided to hit the gym. It was after 10:30, but they were open until midnight on Friday nights, so I had plenty of time.
After changing into my nondescript workout gear as I never really went for the Spandex/Lycra look, I walked upstairs to the free weight area, and to my surprise, no one else was working out. Usually this would bother me as seeing hot guys pumping up is inspirational, but I just wanted to get a good sweat going.
After an hour of working my chest until I swore my nipples would pop off from the pressure, I did some crunches and decided to call it a night and go downstairs to the locker room and shower. Interestingly, no one else came in to work out while I was there, and from what I could tell, only the night manager remained on duty.
As I undressed at my locker, the manager walked by and smiled. I am usually a talkative guy, but I noticed a while back, that although he was friendly and smiled a lot, this particular manager wasn’t much of a talker, so I never initiated conversation. He was also the kind that never went for me – buzz cut, tattoos from neck to ankles, earrings, and from what I could tell through his tight shirt, nipple rings. He was also the bodybuilder type with big, thick muscles that were obviously enhanced through chemistry (and I’ll leave it at that). He did have those dark features I find enormously attractive, but his look told me that I was not his type.
I bent down to slip off my jock, and I stood up to find him standing in front of me and checking me out.
“Pretty slow tonight,” he said.
“Yeah, made my workout that much easier.” I didn’t bother covering myself up with a towel, as by then he had a full view and what was the point. I am also very well built with a naturally smooth physique and slabs of lean, hard muscle from years of working out, so I like the attention. My dick hangs nicely, too, with a pair of round full balls to support it. This would have been a good time to put on the moves, but as I said, this type never goes for me. My being blond doesn’t help either.
“I still have time to shower before you lock up I hope.”
“You have plenty of time,” he said as he walked away then shouted over his shoulder, “I’m going to lock up early, but take your time.”
We have open showers, which I like because there is nothing better than having a hot view of pumped up muscle-heads after a workout, and I had picked up my share of tricks after a shower in this gym as well.
I stepped up to the second shower head that I knew had the best pressure, turned it on and let the water cascade down my back as I faced the wall. I then shampooed my hair and turned around to rinse out the suds. I almost jumped when I felt a hand on my balls. I opened my eyes to see the night manager, naked and feeling me up while grinning at me.
“Mind if I soap you up?”
I just shrugged as if to say what the hell. He then squeezed some soap from the dispenser and proceeded to rub the soap on my chest, down my abs, back up my sides and indicated I should raise my arms as he scrubbed my pits. We didn’t say a word as he continued to soap me up from head to toe while I drank in every tattooed inch of muscle on his beautiful body. Not only were his nipples pierced, but his belly button and big, thick cock were as well. I was intrigued by his body art, turned on by his beauty, and getting horny from his touch. My cock was standing straight up, thick and long, and the head was more swollen than usual.
He turned me around and worked my back, paying special attention to my hard, round glutes before he worked his hand between them and stuck a finger in my hole while he reached around with the other hand and stroked my now-aching cock.
Then he licked the back of my neck. That did it. About a quart of precum oozed from my cock, but the water and soap disguised it, although my moan was loud and clear.
I then felt his hard cock sliding up and down my crack and the smooth metal of the ring tracing its path. What a feeling, and I didn’t want it to end.
I hardly ever bottom, but he was doing things with his hands on my body that had me almost begging out loud. I know he sensed my desire because he then let the head of his cock slide between my cheeks and without stumbling, fumbling or mumbling, he found the hole.
Yes, he was an expert top – a rare breed and a fantastic find. The few times I ever bottomed, I got annoyed when they would struggle to find the hole and get to work, always thinking, ‘Find it already, fuck me and leave.’
He penetrated me ever so gently but with a steady movement, and before I knew it, that hard, thick pierced tool was all the way in, and I oozed another quart of precum. The metal ring just added to my pleasure as doing me from behind allowed it to rub my prostate just right. He continued to lick my neck and stroke my cock while he fucked me slowly never increasing nor decreasing his pace. I was in heaven. And, I was getting close.
Within a minute, I shot with a loud growl and painted the tiles with my thick load while he continued his steady fuck. Once he was sure I was drained, he withdrew his cock, and I ached for its return. It was over, and I wanted it to go on all night. I was embarrassed at my quick orgasm, but he seemed not to mind.
He turned me around and proceeded to soap me up again as he did before, but this time he leaned in and planted his full lips on mine. Not only was he a great fuck, but also the best kisser I have ever known. My cock, which I thought was through for the night, got hard again (his stroking it didn’t hurt).
This time instead of turning me around, he turned around and rubbed his big hard muscular ass on my cock. I got the message. I found the hole with no problem and penetrated him with the same gentle but firm steady stroke he had shown me. I ran my tongue up his back and all over his neck, while I reached around and stroked his cock. He moaned with pleasure as I fucked him steadily, figuring he liked it as he gave it, slow, steady, firm and sensual. I have learned from years of casual encounters that if someone does something to you, they usually like it done to them.
He liked it.
Within a minute, he growled out his own thick load and painted the tile floor.
Strangely, we had only been at it for no more than ten or fifteen minutes, yet we had both come and fucked each other. I could have come again, but I withdrew. I also decided to return the favor and scrub him up.
His body felt fantastic; the more I felt of it, the more I wanted to go at it again.
“Come home with me,” he said.
Those were the first words either of us had spoken since he entered the shower.
“OK.”
We rinsed off, and as I walked toward his car, I wondered what a guy like him wanted with a guy like me.
That was more than twenty years ago, but I no longer wonder what he sees in me as long as he fucks me slow and steady and lets me return the favor every night.
THE ONE GIVING THE ORDERS
Another scorcher on Paris Island, South Carolina, and Master Sergeant Masters was ready to call it a day. Seven weeks into boot camp with the latest flock of recruits was taking its toll on Masters, and he swore after week eleven, once they were done with him and off to infantry training, he would retire. Twenty-five years he had spent in the Marines, and he was damn proud of his service to his country. Although he never saw combat, he had trained by last count over 11,000 recruits – the majority of whom arrived as long-haired pussies and left as jar-headed fighting machines.
His once deep resonating voice had matured to a prematurely raspy quality due to years of yelling orders and berating the greens.
After marching his boys into the barracks, he handed over control to Master Sergeant Earl, completed some paperwork, hopped into his Dodge pick-up, and drove to his home in Beaufort. He had chosen to live off base a few years before when he spotted the little house while out for some R&R one weekend. There was a for sale sign on it, and once he had contacted the real estate agent and taken a tour, he knew it was the home he always wanted. Having always lived modestly, driving an almost thirty-year-old truck at the time and always living on base, he was able to pay cash for the house with a little to spare to fix it up. His favorite feature was the basement. Basements were rare in these parts being so close to the coast, but this house was over 100 years old.
Masters pulled up to the house, parked his truck around back, and hopped out. He inspected his garden, then he stretched his arms and let out a roar. Barking orders all day had taken its toll, and at forty-six, he was getting seriously tired of always being in charge. Masters looked down at the garden and noticed some weeds popping up, so he started pulling them out. The sun was baking, so he pulled off his olive-green T-shirt, revealing his hairy, muscular torso. All he had on were his fatigues and boots. At six-feet even and over 225 pounds, Masters was a solid mountain of muscle. Prominent veins, which could be seen over the matt of salt and pepper hair on his arms, popped from his forearms up across his biceps right over his deltoids. His chest was two solid mounds of pectoral muscle covered in the same salt and pepper hair, which didn’t conceal his large protruding nipples – nipples one just wanted to suck and chew on for hours. And, Masters wouldn’t have minded that as they were hot-wired right to his gigantic dick.
He continued pulling the weeds and was working his way across the garden, when he heard a vehicle pull up in front of his house. He then heard a door open and shut, then another.
“What have we here?” came a voice at the foot of the garden.
Masters looked up and saw two men, both wearing fatigues and boots and no shirts standing there in his backyard looking at him. He recognized both of them. The man who had spoken was Private First Class Boneman, who finished boot camp a little over a year ago. Boneman was around five-foot-ten 170 pounds with light blond hair covering his young, muscular body, a handsome face with blue eyes and a blond high-and-tight haircut. Standing next to him was his boot camp buddy, Private First Class Firestone, who was considerably shorter than Boneman, but weighed the same, displaying a thickly muscled frame. The little man had dark features, smooth skin and hauntingly black eyes. One could tell immediately he was not the brightest guy, but sexy nonetheless.
“I think it’s our favorite drill instructor, Master Sergeant Masters,” Firestone answered.
Masters stared at the two boys, expressionless. He didn’t know w
hy they were here, nor did he care. Once the boys were done with boot camp, he was done with them.
“So, growing pretty flowers, Sarge?” Boneman asked as he walked toward Masters with Firestone beside him.
“What do you boys want?” Masters said as he stood up.
Instantly, Boneman lunged toward him while Firestone grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back. Boneman held a hand at Masters’ throat while he grabbed the top of his fatigues with the other hand.
“We’re here to have a little fun with our favorite drill instructor,” Boneman said as he spit in the sergeant’s face.
Masters just stared him down.
Firestone removed his military-issue belt and tied Masters’ wrists behind his back, and Boneman grabbed the older man’s dog tags and led him into the house. They entered through the back door into the kitchen, where Boneman opened the first door he saw, which turned out to be a broom closet. He opened a second door, which opened to a staircase leading to the basement. After feeling inside the wall for a light switch and turning it on, he continued to lead Masters by the dog tags while Firestone held onto his bound wrists and pushed him from behind as they descended the stairs into the dimly lit basement.
“Woo hoo, lookey here,” Boneman said as he scanned the room.
There was a sling hanging down in the middle of the room, off to one side was a wall with permanently attached restraints, a weight bench was situated in one corner, and in the opposite corner was a claw-type bathtub. Interestingly, hanging over the bath tub were chains with wrist restraints attached at the ends. Various brushes, hoses and other odds and ends were sitting on a table next to the tub.
“Get him into the tub!” Boneman barked at Firestone, who did as he was told. Masters tried to resist, but the little muscleman was still able to steer him over and into the tub. Boneman reached up and pulled down the two chains, removed the belt that Firestone had used, while the little man held onto the sergeant’s wrists. Boneman grabbed one of his wrists, brought it in front of him, and restrained it on the chain then he did the same with the other. He then pulled the chains up, so Masters’ hands were above his head.