Hot Nights in the South of France

by Henri Couesnon

  To say nothing of the fact that being in bed with him would probably be like lying next to a pile of rocks—!

  Maybe he does hustle, of course, for all I know. In which case, he’s my competition. I’d better start putting more hours in, down at the gym, if I want to keep up with behemoths like him!

  The bigger they are, though, as they say, the harder they fall! We’ll see if that’s true, this time!

  Amused by these speculations, Laurent nonetheless looked forward to his night with the physique star. He was going to get what many men only fantasized about—a night of sex with the muscle stud—and, furthermore, he was going to be paid for it!

  On the date, Laurent drove to Marseille. Pierre wanted him to come directly to his hotel room.

  When his john let him into the room, Laurent felt as though he’d entered into a David and Goliath encounter. Whatever Pierre lacked in height, he more than made up in sheer bulk. Laurent felt puny next to the guy! He could imagine himself lying under the muscle man, compressed by him, weighed down, having the breath squeezed right out of his body!

  Like most pro bodybuilders, Pierre had prepared for this contest by acquiring a very dark, artificial, all-over tan—which transformed a white guy such as him into an odd cross between a man of color and a bronze statue. The dark tan made his teeth, and the whites of his eyes, stand out unnaturally, when he smiled at Laurent in welcome. He was friendly enough.

  But the bodybuilder wasn’t alone. The room had two beds, and Pierre was there with another, taller bodybuilder, whose physique may not have matched his, but was impressive enough by any other standard.

  “This is my buddy, Robert,” Pierre said.

  “Everybody calls me Bob,” Robert told Laurent, as they shook hands.

  Laurent hadn’t agreed to a threesome, but that might not necessarily be what Pierre had in mind. So, diplomatically, Laurent didn’t bring up the issue. The price of his services could always be renegotiated, later, if he was expected to service both muscle studs.

  “So, you hustle, huh?” Pierre asked.

  Laurent smiled. “Obviously.”

  “I could never hustle. I don’t think I could stand to be pawed by a lot of guys who didn’t have good bodies, whom I didn’t find attractive. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “It’s easier than you think.” Especially once the money’s deposited in my account, ahead of time, Laurent thought, smugly.

  “I don’t really hustle,” Pierre said, rather contradicting himself. “I have a couple of rich dudes back home in Lyons who sponsor me. Of course, I have to put out for them, but that’s just to keep them happy and show my gratitude. You know, keep them on the hook?”

  “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.”

  Pierre seemed reassured by Laurent nonjudgmental attitude.

  “They’re both bears,” he volunteered. “You know, kind of chubby, and hairy. Why they don’t spend some time in a gym, I can’t understand, not for the life of me. A good personal trainer could whip their fat asses into shape.”

  “Not everyone is as dedicated as you are,” Laurent suggested, once again laying on the flattery.

  Pierre preened. “Damn right they’re not. Still—my guys are generous, so I guess I can’t gripe. For fun, though—that’s when I need a guy like you.”

  “Hope I’ll do. Next to you, I realize how small and puny I am.”

  “You’ve got a good fitness model kind of build,” Pierre deigned to say. “And unless you’re competing—then things like size, bulk—they aren’t everything. Except when it comes to cock size,” the muscle man went on, lewdly. “And, judging by those pictures of you on your website, you’re a real heavyweight in that class.”

  Pierre picked up an obviously well-packed gym bag.

  “We may as well go,” he said. “I like to get there early, and not have to rush the prep.”

  The three men took a cab to the auditorium where the contest would take place.

  Backstage, Laurent found himself in a muscle enthusiast’s heaven. Bodybuilders, each of whom seemed to have at least one well-built friend with him to assist him, milled about in various stages of undress. Sooner or later, they all made use of the free weights supplied in the “pump room,” to give their muscles a last-minute workout. There was also the ritual of stripping down, shaving off body hair, and oiling up, before wriggling into skimpy, tight-fitting posing trunks. Most of the contestants, showing little or no personal modesty, oiled up while nude, with their helpers applying the oil to their backs and the other parts of their bodies they couldn’t easily reach.

  Pierre was wired—understandably enough—and he seemed eager to chat, no doubt to distract himself from his pre-competition nerves. While he stood there nude and Bob worked on him, methodically oiling him, he kept up a constant stream of chatter. Like many bodybuilders, Pierre was decidedly narcissistic, and his favorite topic of conversation was himself.

  “Hey, listen to this, Laurent. You’ll get a kick out of it. Last month I hooked up with this dude—what was his name, Bob, was it Etienne? Yeah, Etienne. Who works out at the same gym Bob and I belong to. Etienne’s one of those guys who likes to stare whenever he sees a real muscle stud like me hitting the weights. Goddamn horny muscle pup’s tongue hung so far down out of his mouth while he was drooling over me that he was lucky he didn’t trip on it!

  “Anyway, he finally worked up the courage to come over to me and start talking and come on to me, verbally, instead of just looking and longing. He’s a hot little muscle fuck, so I didn’t do anything to discourage him.

  “He claimed he was ‘just curious’ about muscle worship, which he’d heard other guys talking about, and he wouldn’t mind giving it a try, but only with the right kind of alpha muscle male. That would be me, of course. I’m always ready for sexy shit like that, so I arranged for him to come to my place one night. I told him I’d let him explore my body, but only if he was willing to obey all of my fucking orders, without question. I could tell from his reaction that just the thought got him hot, so he agreed, real fast.

  “Etienne’s a pretty big guy himself, with a decent build, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s fooled around with plenty of other men, and even if he has a few subs himself, whom he likes to dominate on the side. But I could tell that what he was really interested in was being totally owned by a bigger guy, being his bitch.

  “When he showed up at my apartment, I was already shirtless, and I had some ‘toys’ and other things laid out on the coffee table, ready for us to use. You should’ve seen the look on his face when he saw them! Half scared shitless, half already so hot he was just about to come! Guess which half prevailed? Ha! No prize for guessing right, Laurent, buddy!

  “Etienne’s a pretty strong guy, not as big as I am, of course—who is?—and if we ended up getting into it, physically, he could probably put up a good fight. Before I subdued and beat his ass. Which is what would happen, inevitably.

  “He had an arrogant attitude about him at first, as though he really didn’t want to be there, but was just doing me a favor. I fixed that, right away. I started giving him orders, in a real stern tone of voice, and he obeyed them. I made him strip naked, and as soon as he was bare-assed, I told him to pose and flex for me. While he did that, showing off his body, his nice big uncut cock betrayed him, showing just how turned on he was. That prick of his was rock-hard and it bounced up and smacked against his abs. The son of a bitch was already dripping pre-cum.”

  At this point, Bob, whose oily hands continued to anoint his buddy’s body, interrupted the muscle monologue.

  “Like some of these guys, here,” Bob said.

  Looking around, Laurent was surprised to see how many of the bodybuilders were sporting boners. In some cases, they were having real difficulty keeping their hard-ons contained inside their posing trunks, the pouches of which were barely roomy enough decently to accommodate flaccid genitalia.

  Pierre, of course, attributed the outbreak of priapism to his imp
ressive presence.

  “They’re all looking at me,” he said, smugly. “Checking me out, sizing me up—knowing I’ve got what it takes to beat them tonight. They hate my guts. Which doesn’t stop them from having the hots for me! Yeah, they all want me. But, getting back to my story—!

  “I gave Etienne a few minutes of criticism, walking around his hard-muscled body, pointing out his weaknesses and giving him advice about how he could improve himself. That pissed him off, but it was all part of my domination of him. He started saying, ‘yes, sir,’ in this meek little girly way, in response to my comments, and I could tell that he was ready to submit to me. But I drew out the game, because I knew that if I made him work hard for it, he’d get really lathered up, and after I was done with him, he’d definitely want to come back to me for more.

  “He was eyeing the toys on the coffee table. I decided it was time to give him a demonstration of how they could be put to good use, to break in a boy. I decided we’d do some fleshlight fucking while I fucked his butch hole with another toy at the same time.

  “I commanded him to oil me up, and he obeyed, oiling every part of my body, the way Bob’s doing now. My own dick was stiff and ready for action, so when he got started on it, rubbing the oil onto it and massaging it, I had to tell him to slow down and not make me come too fast. I ordered him to use his hands on my glutes, instead. He massaged them, too, and he probably thought he was being real sly and slick and clever when he slipped two of his oily fingers inside my ass. But I liked the way that felt, so I just stood there and let him finger-fuck me.

  “But if he thought he was going to end up screwing me with his cock, then he was in for a big disappointment. I was the boss, and it was going to be the other way around!

  “I have two identical fleshlights, for when I play with a partner. God, I love those damn things! You know what I’m talking about, Laurent? They really are shaped like a flashlight, cylindrical, wider at one end. You grip the thing and shove your dick inside the open end, which is lined with this soft, pliant material—some kind of silicone, I guess—and which molds itself around your prick, fitting it perfectly. Add a little bit of lube before you stick your cock in, and the experience is almost as good as having a hot mouth sucking on your dick, or shoving your fuck tool right up some dude’s hot, tight ass.

  “I lubed up both devices, and I told Etienne to stand there and fuck one, while I stood facing him and I fucked the other. God, that was hot! The look in his eyes, all sort of wild, guilty and ashamed, but horny at the same time! The way we were both breathing hard, and sweating. The sight of our arm muscles all knotted up and bulging as we worked our fists to pump those frigging fleshlights back and forth on our stiff dicks! Oh, man! It was just as though each of us had a hot cocksucker’s mouth or a horny rectum-loving queer’s asshole clamped around his dick!”

  Pierre, Laurent noticed, wasn’t making the least effort to keep his voice down, and several of the nearby competitors and their assistants were eavesdropping, hanging on his every lewd word.

  “I’m finished,” Bob reported, standing up and reaching for a towel to wipe off his oily hands. “You look good,” he assured Pierre, looking him up and down, scrutinizing his nude, bronzed, gleaming body. “Better wait until the last minute to put your trunks on,” he advised. “Don’t want to get oil on them, if we can avoid it. And,” Bob added, perhaps a bit maliciously, “you’d better give that freaking hard-on of yours a chance to subside, before you try to stuff it inside your trunks.”

  Pierre was indeed in a state of acute erection. Maybe his narrative, and the erotic memories it had revived, had inspired him.

  “How’s my hair?” he wanted to know.

  “Fine,” Bob insisted. “Don’t fuss with it.”

  “Tell me more about you and Etienne,” Laurent prompted Pierre. “I’d like to hear what happened next.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Pierre said. “Finally, I made him bend over, and I slid a big rubber butt plug right up his ass. He squirmed and moaned, and I could see he had trouble taking it, but he took it. He was quite a sight, with his cock still stuck inside the fleshlight, and his tight butch manhole being filled up and stretched by that plug. Obviously, he wasn’t used to having his ass penetrated, but I made him take it and love it.

  “I took the fleshlight off my prick. I stood in front of Etienne and I leaned over him. I told him to suck my dick! He did it, of course, because by then he was so hot he couldn’t deny me anything. I made him lick and suck on my balls, too—and lick my taint. I turned around and spread my ass cheeks, and I shoved my butt right into his face, forcing him to suck and tongue-fuck my ass. He was good at it. Real good! Now that he’d been properly broken in, my muscle pup was an obedient little muscle-worshipping man whore!

  “Finally, I ripped the butt plug out of his hole, and I replaced it with my prick. Damn, did I fuck his ass! The more he struggled and squealed and begged me to go easy on him, the rougher I fucked him. The bitch loved it, of course. All the while, he had the fleshlight jammed around his cockshaft. I commanded him to grab hold of the device and use it to jack himself off, so that he’d fill the interior of the sex toy with his cum when I jizzed deep inside his ass. You should’ve seen that muscle pup do exactly what I told him! He almost hurt himself, he worked the fleshlight back and forth on his penis so hard. And he kept pushing his behind back into my crotch, making sure my cock sank all the way into him each time I shoved it into him. I jackhammered my prickhead against his prostate. All the while, he was whimpering like a pussy, begging me to fuck him harder, to let him really feel my cock reaming out his butt. This was typical—once I get some cocky, butch number broken in, he can’t get enough of my muscle stud cock!

  “When, moaning, Etienne warned me that he was about to come, I told him to pull the fleshlight off his dick and finish himself off with his hand. He obeyed, of course, and he didn’t have to stroke himself more than a half dozen times before he blew his load. His cock splashed its cum all over his abs.

  “I forced myself not to come inside his ass. Instead, I pulled my prick out at the last moment, and I sprayed my hot wet load all over his face and hair, subjecting him to further humiliation, driving home the fact that he was now my bitch. When I was done ejaculating, he licked my cum from his face, using one hand to scoop it up and transfer it to his mouth, while his other hand continued to pump away on his own spent dick, as though he hoped he might be able to force still more cum out of himself. Then I made him show his gratitude by licking the sweat off my body, giving me a complete tongue bath. I didn’t let him get away with any of that bullshit cocky attitude he’d shown toward me earlier. No, I made him be my obedient little punk ass sub!

  “He’s been back since then, a few times. He’s learned his lesson, and now he knows that I own him, and I won’t tolerate anything less that total submission from him.

  “Alpha muscle males like me don’t take any shit from anybody,” Pierre concluded. “It’s either play by my rules, or go somewhere else to get laid.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” Laurent said.

  Bob glanced at Laurent, and commented, in a droll tone of voice, “If only Pierre would come out of his shell and you could get him to talk more. He needs to get over his shyness, and work on his self-esteem, too.”

  “Ha!” Pierre snorted, in derision. “What I need is a hot dude to work on my cock!” He looked Laurent up and down, as though once again assessing his suitability for the job.

  Soon, it was time for Laurent to excuse himself, so he could go out front and find his seat.

  He enjoyed the show. There were some fantastic physiques on display. Egged on by their fans in the audience, feeding on their energy, the competitors posed and flexed. Even in such an imposing lineup, though, Pierre stood out. Laurent thought he had a good chance of winning his weight class, and possibly also taking the overall title.

  Pierre did win his class, but he lost the overall title to a dark horse—a young guy from Normandy, a li
ght heavyweight, who had a beautiful face, a body which combined hard muscle mass and symmetry in perfect balance, and a dynamic posing routine, which drove the crowd wild.

  Aw, shit, Pierre’s going to be pissed, Laurent feared. Which could make our tryst kind of awkward. Hope he’s not the kind of guy who takes out his disappointment on his sex partner—in a bad way! I don’t feel like being beaten up tonight!

  But Pierre, for all his unabashed egotism, was a good sport. When Laurent returned backstage, he found Pierre and Bob among a cluster of other men who were congratulating the lad from Normandy, who seemed dazed by his triumph. Complimenting the boy, Pierre seemed sincere.

  “I’ll see you guys back at the hotel,” Bob said.

  Laurent was puzzled. “We can all go back there in the same cab, can’t we?”

  “I have to get Pierre’s chow ready for him,” Bob explained. “That’s one of my duties. Why he keeps me around.”

  “My after-contest pig-out,” Pierre told Laurent, by way of further clarification. “God, I’ve been starving myself for weeks, to get my goddamn body fat down. Now I can stuff myself, even if I do end up all bloated up.”

  Bob left. Fully dressed, Laurent loitered in the shower area, watching Pierre and the other naked bodybuilders shower. It was quite a treat—a physique show after the show, so to speak!

  “May I have the honor of drying your back?” Laurent asked, when Pierre was done showering, and he reached for his towel.

  “Please do,” the huge man said.

  “Got to start earning my keep—like Bob,” Laurent whispered, so the others couldn’t hear.

  Pierre grinned. “Oh, you’ll be earning it, soon enough.”

  “I’m surprised that Bob’s duties don’t include helping you unwind.”