by Jeff Erno
Before he could even get the shorts all the way down Oliver’s thighs, Benjy froze. His eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped open. “Oliver, holy fucking shit! Why on earth were you ever ashamed of showing me your—”
His cock sprang upward, the bulbous head swollen, and as Oliver stared down, he could hardly believe he’d at last exposed himself to another man. Benjy knelt between Oliver’s legs, just inches from his junk. As Benjy slid back on the bed and tugged the shorts down farther, Oliver obliged, temporarily squeezing his legs together. Benjy tore off the shorts, tossed them aside, and dove onto the mattress. Now on his belly, he darted out his tongue to lick Oliver’s ball sac, all the while grasping his shaft firmly with one hand.
Oliver didn’t know what to do with his own hands. He clutched frantically at the comforter beneath him. He wasn’t anticipating how ticklish his balls would be. Washing and touching himself over the years hadn’t prepared him for the distinct feeling of a warm tongue against the most sensitive region of his body. He squirmed and bit his bottom lip. Keeping his legs spread wide apart proved far more challenging than he’d ever have imagined—such sweet torture.
Benjy licked him, lapping furiously at his testicles for a few minutes until at last he backed away and reached up to remove his eyeglasses. Placing them on the king-sized mattress beside him, he looked up into Oliver’s eyes as he held his cock firmly by the base. He smiled, then opened his mouth and pressed his tongue against the sensitive underside, and it seemed to Oliver that Benjy was enjoying an ice cream cone. When his lips wrapped around the bulbous head and he felt the silky warm suction of Benjy’s mouth around his shaft, Oliver cried out.
Words would never be able to describe the warm, slippery sensation of Benjy’s mouth. “Oh fuck, Benjy. Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!” He first grabbed the bedsheets, then released them to grab Benjy’s shoulders. Squirming on the mattress, he looked down to see Benjy sliding down his rock-hard shaft.
He’d seen the images hundreds of times in online porn scenes but had no idea exactly how wonderful it actually felt. As Benjy bobbed on his cock, the slickness of his tongue against the underside and the warm silkiness of Benjy’s mouth surrounded him. Benjy’s lips formed a tight suction around the shaft, and Oliver marveled as he watched his cock sliding in and out of the welcoming hole.
“Benjy! Oh Benjy, that feels so fucking good. Oh God!”
He couldn’t help himself. He had to touch Benjy. He raked his fingers through Benjy’s thick, unruly hair. Caressing, almost petting, he conveyed the pleasure of what he was feeling through the gentleness of his touch. “Oh, baby, you’re gonna make me shoot. You’re gonna make me come. Oh God! Benjy! Benjy!”
He couldn’t hold out much longer. Though the experience hadn’t taken that long, it didn’t seem to matter. He cried out one more warning to his lover. “Here it comes! Benjy!” Pressing his palms against Benjy’s shoulders, he tried to guide him back. He didn’t want Benjy to assume he expected him to swallow the load.
But Benjy didn’t even hesitate. He dove farther onto the cock, taking its entirety into his mouth and pressing his lips against the ball sac. Forming a seal around the shaft, he sucked all the more furiously, and as Oliver at last felt himself cross his glorious point of no return, he grasped Benjy’s shoulders and released his load. Like a geyser erupting, he blasted deep into Benjy’s mouth, firing straight down his throat. Benjy gulped and moaned simultaneously, swallowing every drop as jet after jet pumped out of Oliver’s cock.
Shivers rippled through Oliver’s body and he moaned again, tossing his head back and squeezing his eyes tightly closed. He shook on the mattress, draining himself, then opened his eyes and looked down at Benjy, who now stared up at him, smiling as best he could with his mouth full of Oliver’s manhood.
“Son of a bitch…. Benjy!” He reached for him, and Benjy slowly slid off the shaft, licking his lips, then climbed up on top of Oliver and slid into the crook of his arm as they kissed with passion. Oliver could taste himself on Benjy’s lips, but more importantly, he felt the smooth warmth of Benjy’s skin against his own. He wrapped both arms around him, holding him against his body. “Benjy, you’re amazing. I… I can never repay something like that.”
Benjy smiled and kissed him once more. “You already have, Ollie. You already have.”
Chapter Ten
TWO FULL weeks of nonstop workouts had begun to yield some noticeable results. Although Oliver didn’t see a remarkable change in his appearance, he certainly felt a lot different. Particularly, as he worked his upper and lower body with the resistance training and free weights, he felt the burn induced by his torturous routines, but the effects did not debilitate him, as had been the case in the beginning. And his cardio routines were beginning to energize him more than exhaust him. Funny how it worked that way. Instead of feeling tired, he felt revitalized.
As promised, the exercises he’d originally found challenging became easy. Adam had said he’d be doing a hundred crunches at a time by month’s end, and he was already up to fifty. Discouraged that the scale wasn’t immediately reflecting his progress, he talked to his trainer, who assured him the fat would continue to diminish, but he might not see drastic results in terms of his weight. While losing fat, he was also gaining muscle. And he couldn’t really deny that. His clothes were looser, and so was his skin. He was starting to feel more defined.
Perhaps it was the boost in confidence he suddenly felt that led him to speak to one of the gym bunny foursome early one morning. The most gregarious of the group, Devon, entered the locker room alone. Though he generally arrived first, the others were always soon to follow. Oliver had learned their names simply by inadvertently eavesdropping. Devon possessed a boyish face and seemed to always be smiling. He wore a short, conservatively styled haircut that suited his naturally wavy hair, and had big brown eyes like Benjy. Of course, he also had a body to die for, not a noticeable ounce of fat on his godlike frame.
Oliver could only aspire to one day be as fit as a guy like Devon. It seemed too distant a goal to seriously envision himself with that kind of body, and the very idea of a dude like that talking to him or even giving him the time of day made butterflies flutter in Oliver’s stomach. Like back in high school, he admired the jocks from afar, secretly. He watched them in movies, on TV, and online. And occasionally he’d even interact with one in person, usually about something work related. But he didn’t have jock buddies. He’d never be a part of their group, a member of their “in-crowd.”
“Morning.” Oliver managed to muster the courage to actually speak as Devon strutted past him. Devon stopped briefly, turned, and looked down at Oliver, who was sitting on one of the locker-room benches, lacing his sneakers.
“Oh, hi.” He smiled, and in that split second, the eye contact they shared sent a thrill through Oliver’s extremities. The vibe resonated sincerity and honest cordiality. Granted, the guy had only spoken two words, but it was more the way he said them and the look he gave Oliver that felt so right.
“Have you guys been coming…?” He started to ask if they’d been coming to the gym long, then realized how cliché the remark sounded.
“Have we been coming here long? Sure. Nearly every day for the past three years. Well, my friends Roger and AJ started coming about a year ago. They’re a couple.”
As if on cue, the other two walked through the door. AJ, the shorter one, probably younger, stopped and looked from Devon to Oliver, a puzzled expression on his face. He wore his blond hair swept back stylishly, high on the top and shaved on the sides and back.
“Our other friend, Ethan, is the veteran. He’s been a member since this place opened eight years ago.”
None of them looked that old. Oliver knew who Ethan was. He’d have guessed him to be in his mid- to late-twenties, and like the others, possessed a solid, sculpted physique. He seemed quieter, though. But Oliver had observed all four of them. He’d had plenty of opportunity out in the gym. They did a lot of the same exercises and
used many of the same machines Oliver used. Of course they all were way more advanced than Oliver.
“New duds?” AJ said to Oliver. He hadn’t bothered to even officially greet him, but he was referring to the new sleeveless workout shirt and shorts Oliver had just purchased. He smiled as he looked up at AJ, pleased the guy had been observant enough to notice.
“Yeah, actually.”
“That’s what I thought. You’ve been wearing those same ol’ clothes every single day the past two weeks. Glad you scrounged up the cash to get yourself something new.”
“Oh.” Oliver laughed. He looked at the three of them, all smiling. “Yeah. Well, I’ve never had a gym membership before.”
With the same plastic smile on his face, AJ nodded. “Trust me, it shows. Where’d you get your cool new knockoffs? No, don’t tell me, let me guess. Hm. Salvation Army Thrift Store?”
“AJ….” Devon moved closer to AJ and placed a hand on his shoulder while AJ’s boyfriend, Roger, laughed.
“No, no, no! Of course not!” AJ continued. “You got them at Walmart.”
Actually, Oliver had purchased the new clothes at Walmart. For so many years, he’d been too fat to shop in the same stores most people patronized to buy their clothes. Most of his wardrobe had been mail ordered. With him losing so much weight within the past five months, he wasn’t sure where to even shop. He and Benjy had gone to the mall once and gotten a few basics—shirts and pants—but they were mainly for work. And it didn’t make sense to spend a fortune on gym clothes, especially when he just wore them to work out. Plus, he hoped to continue losing weight, which meant he’d have to buy newer items in a few weeks.
He stared up at AJ, who was grinning smugly. His boyfriend, all smiles, laughed beside him. “Oh my God.” He slapped AJ on the back. “I can’t believe you just said that.” The guy seriously found the comments amusing, though. He couldn’t seem to stop laughing, which only encouraged AJ.
“No offense, man. It’s got to be challenging, a guy in your condition.” AJ continued his stand-up routine.
“My condition?”
“You know what they say about heavy people? They’re like relationships. A lot of times they don’t work out.”
At this point, Roger literally doubled over, laughing so hard. Devon stood beside them, smiling, but didn’t offer commentary. Finally Devon grabbed AJ’s shoulder and spun him around. “C’mon,” he said. “You’re a doofus. Go get changed.” AJ’s boyfriend grabbed his other arm and pulled him away as the two continued laughing hysterically.
“Uh, sorry about that,” Devon said to Oliver, then turned away and headed across the locker room to join his friends. The fourth member of the group, Ethan, then walked in and strutted straight past Oliver without a word, to meet with his group. Oliver heard the four of them laughing as AJ recounted the story of his humorous antics moments earlier.
Red-faced, Oliver stored his personals in the locker and headed up the stairs to the gym. He felt nauseous and on the verge of tears. More than that, he felt two inches tall. He’d never been more humiliated in all his life. Even at three hundred thirty pounds, he hadn’t felt so inferior.
His face burned as he pushed his way through his routine, not even caring if he did the exercises properly. He just needed to get out of there. When Adam arrived a few minutes later, Oliver apologized, explained he wasn’t feeling well that day, and stated he needed to leave early. He didn’t even finish all his cardio.
When he got to his car, he tossed his duffel carelessly in the back seat, slid behind the wheel, and slammed the door angrily. At last the tears erupted, an agonizing sob bursting from his core. All this for nothing. It was never going to matter. He’d never be good enough. He’d never look like those guys or even know how to act like them if by some miracle he did lose all his weight.
For so long, he’d laughed at all the jokes. Fuck, he’d often been the one to tell them. A fat joke was so much easier to endure if you were the one saying it. People didn’t see the pain. They didn’t understand the struggle.
Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he dug out his cell phone from the console beside him and speed-dialed his employer. Requesting a sick day, he explained he thought he had the flu or something. As he peeled out of the parking lot, he could hardly see the road because his eyes had again flooded with tears, but his car knew his destination so well it could practically drive on autopilot.
The one thing he’d always loved about the McDonald’s not far from his house was that you could order from the main menu twenty-four hours a day. They didn’t exclusively serve breakfast until ten thirty like many of the restaurants in their chain. He pulled up to the drive-through board, not bothering to even glance at the menu. He knew it all by heart. It was all too familiar.
The rush of excitement that surged through him perhaps resembled the feeling a crack addict experienced when they knew they were about to get their fix. “I’d like a number nine with a large Coke and a large fry, a twenty-piece McNugget with sweet and sour, an extra order of large fries… oh, and two apple pies… and wait, can you add a Big Mac?”
OLIVER’S PHONE log had recorded the missed calls from Benjy. Obviously, Benjy was worried about him, and Oliver kind of felt like shit shutting him out. He should call Benjy back and at least try to explain his absence at work. Forcing himself upright, he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, holding the cell out in front of him.
He didn’t press Benjy’s number, though. Instead he stared at the phone, chastising himself mentally for allowing those assholes to get to him. He’d nearly sabotaged himself because of them and their cruelty. At this point, he no longer felt sad, and his feelings of self-loathing had completely vanished, replaced by ferocious anger and justifiable indignation.
When he heard the pounding on his side door, he set the phone down on the bedside stand and rose to his feet. He marched out the bedroom and plodded down the hall toward the kitchen, through the utility room, and opened the door to the garage. There Benjy stood, hands completely full.
“Benjy….”
“Ollie, I’ve been so worried. I brought you some soup.”
Oliver smiled and ushered him inside. “Thank you. That’s so sweet.” He’d apparently left the garage open, so Benjy had parked in the drive and simply walked in through the open garage door. Usually they arrived together, so the side door was the entrance Benjy was used to taking.
“That soup smells good.”
“Are you even hungry, though?”
Oliver nodded. “Starving, to be honest.”
Benjy walked through the utility room and set the package on the kitchen counter. He turned to Oliver. “Even after all that Mickey D’s?” He raised his eyebrows as he looked into Oliver’s face.
“Oh that.” Oliver shrugged. “You must’ve seen the fast-food bags in the garbage out in the garage?”
Benjy nodded. A disappointed expression, not so much judgment but more sadness, eclipsed his face.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t eat any of it. Well, not true. I had two french fries. I threw the rest away.”
“Ollie, what happened?” He stepped closer, placing his hand on Oliver’s arm. On tiptoe, he leaned toward his boyfriend and kissed him on the lips. Boyfriend? Was that what Oliver considered him? He smiled as he thought about it. Benjy smelled and tasted as delicious as the soup. “Was it just a moment of weakness? A temptation?”
“Something like that, and I’m sorry I worried you. I should have called or texted you or something. I should have called you back, but when I got home from the gym, I honestly didn’t feel well and ended up taking a nap.”
“Well, let’s sit down. I’ll get you some soup.”
“Why don’t we save the soup? Let me take you out for a change? We can go to that restaurant over by the mall that has the enormous chef’s salads, and you can order anything you want. You can even get a hot-fudge sundae.”
A broad, excited grin spread across Benjy’s adorable fa
ce. “I guess you really are feeling better, huh? I’m dying to hear what happened, but I’m telling you right now, I don’t need ice cream for dessert. I’d rather have you instead.”
Oliver swept him into a hug as they kissed once more. He’d love to just carry Benjy into the bedroom right then and make passionate love to him, but he really was famished. “Okay.” He lowered Benjy to the floor. Oliver had hugged him so fiercely, he’d literally swept him off his feet. “I’ll tell you all the details. Let me get my keys.”
On the way to the restaurant, Benjy told Oliver all about work that day, what he’d been working on and reiterated every word their boss had said. No, she hadn’t seemed upset at all that Oliver had called in. It was the very first time he’d ever missed work, so she was certain he was truly ill.
Oliver didn’t talk about his experience at the gym, not while in the car. Instead, he waited until they were seated in the restaurant and had already placed their order. He then looked across the table in their booth and directly into Benjy’s eyes. He took hold of his hand and began to explain. “I had a bit of an embarrassing situation this morning.”
“What was it?”
Oliver could read the genuine concern in Benjy’s eyes. “These four guys who are always there, other members who work out in the mornings, same time as me—they kind of gave me some shit.”
Benjy scowled. “What do you mean? What kind of shit?”
“Teasing me… well, no, not really teasing. They were mocking me, my size.”
“Oh my God!” Tears of rage instantly flooded Benjy’s eyes. “I hope you filed a fucking complaint!”