Bisexual Bodybuilders Vol 4

by Emeric Varady

  Bob was nervous at the mention of longevity. Given the possible health risks of steroid abuse, he hoped he’d live to be an old man, impotent or otherwise. At least he and Adolar were taking good-quality steroids, under a physician’s supervision, and not overdosing on black market drugs, like some other bodybuilders they knew.

  In the meantime, Bob forced himself to hit the books at least as regularly, if not quite as enthusiastically, as he’d been hitting the weights. After all, he could hardly take Urban’s cynical advice—namely, that he switch to courses taught exclusively by gay male professors, so that he could trick with them in exchange for good grades! Even assuming that Bob could adjust his academic schedule in that way, he’d be exhausted after all that sex—raging hormones or no.

  Because dorm life tended to be distracting at best, Bob also followed Urban’s example and moved into a small off-campus apartment. It was a studio, with a tiny bathroom and tinier kitchen area, but it was adequate, and cheap. At first, the furniture consisted of a bed, a desk and chair, a broken-down second-hand sofa, and a barbell set. Bob didn’t really need anything else.

  Having his own weights was a luxury. God knew he was putting in enough hours at the campus gym. But, on the infrequent nights when he had no sex partner, Bob enjoyed working up a quick sweat in his new apartment. Afterward, he could treat himself to a soothing hot shower, dry off, and fall into bed and go to sleep, right away—or sometimes after a fast, fierce masturbation session, thanks to the ‘roids and the remarkable effect they were having on his already healthy young libido.

  His trysts with Adolar, Urban, and Laszlo had already given him a more sophisticated attitude toward sex. Now, Bob dismissed masturbation as “kid stuff,” an expedient to be resorted to when nothing better was available. Sex with one or two other males, all of them naked, doing everything to one another which was anatomically possible—that was the real, exciting deal!

  Once he got reasonably settled in his apartment, Bob invited Urban to come over one evening, to check out the place.

  While he was waiting for his friend to arrive, Bob finished unpacking the remaining shipping cartons and stowing his things away, working up a sweat in the process.

  Urban showed up, toting a wooden crate containing a dozen wine bottles in his strong arms.

  “A housewarming gift,” he said.

  “Wow! Thanks, man.”

  “Open it carefully,” Urban advised, as he set the crate down on the floor. “Don’t damage the crate. You can use it as an end table.”

  “Whether or not you meant that to be funny … it’s actually not a bad idea.”

  Bob gave Urban a tour of the apartment, which didn’t take long. Then the two young men began to serious wine drinking.

  “It’s a good thing Coach Kozma isn’t here to see us sucking down this vino,” Bob remarked.

  “Oh, I don’t think he’s in any position to criticize,” Urban said. “He’s been known to stretch and break some rules—and do some sucking—himself. Remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He’s no Adolar Mezey, but I think he’s hot, for an older guy.”

  “I don’t disagree.”

  “But you’re in love with your married guy,” Urban teased Bob.

  “Aw—give it a rest, will you? I’m sweaty. I’m going to take a nice hot shower, if you don’t mind,” Bob said, and he started to undress.

  “Go ahead,” Urban told him.

  Bob hoped that Urban would be watching him, admiring him, lusting after him, out of the corner of his eye, while the husky soccer player quickly stripped naked in front of his teammate, and padded about the room with his cock and balls swinging freely between his thighs.

  Bob was definitely excited, and he could feel his dick arcing into proud erection as he felt rather than saw Urban’s eyes lingering on his body.

  “Your build keeps improving, dude,” Urban murmured, after a moment.

  Bob evaded his gaze, afraid that he’d give himself away if he looked the other young man in the eyes. “Thanks, Urban. It comes with the territory. I can’t let myself slack off, not if I want to turn pro someday, like Adolar.

  “Still hot for the guy, huh?” Urban teased him. “I guess we lesser mortals don’t stand a chance with you?”

  “Aw, cut it out. And I might make an exception for an old friend,” Bob blurted out. Then, feeling that he’d said too much, betrayed his true feelings for his buddy, he quickly retreated into the bathroom. But he deliberately left the door standing wide open.

  He heard Urban switch the television set on, flipping through the various channels with the remote. Bob adjusted the shower’s water temperature, and then he got under the hot spray, which felt good on his naked body, and which partially deflated his wildly agitated cock.

  He couldn’t believe, though, how horny he suddenly felt, how utterly whorish he was now willing to be! He’d inviting Urban to come over with no conscious ulterior motives in his mind. Now, though, his desire, his need, was urgent. He wanted to stay hard. He wanted to tease Urban, and excite him as well, with the sight of his big, hard cock! And so, using a fistful of slippery soapsuds to lubricate his palm, Bob began to masturbate under the shower, quickly coaxing his dick back into full, inflexible rigidity, and biting his lip to keep himself from moaning out loud in response to the intense self-induced pleasure.

  Don’t come, oh, don’t come, no matter how good it feels, no matter how much you want to, he told himself. Save it for Urban. But, shit! What if he doesn’t want it? Oh, damn—goddamn! This suspense is killing me.

  Doesn’t want it? Since when has the guy ever turned you down? He’s like Adolar—an insatiable sex pig. Which kind of describes me, too, come to think of it.

  Of course the two of us are going to fuck! My idea of a perfect housewarming!

  After a few minutes of treating himself to self-indulgent self-abuse, Bob forced himself to shut off the water, dry off, and go back out into the other room. Modestly, he wrapped the towel around his waist.

  Urban had turned off all of the lights except for a dim lamp on the table beside the bed, and his face and figure were bathed in the ghostly glow of bluish light from the television screen. He was still fully dressed, except for his shoes, and he was watching some sort of crime drama. He turned his head and smiled at Bob, his eyes flicking restlessly up and down the other bodybuilder’s nearly naked body.

  “Feel better?” he asked, quietly, with a certain tension audible in his voice.

  “Oh, yeah. Much more relaxed,” Bob lied. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he felt surprisingly nervous for some reason, in fact. He took a step toward the bed.

  Urban was staring at Bob’s crotch, at the way his erection tented the terrycloth outward, away from his body. “Jesus,” he whispered. “You’re kind of—well, no offense, but you’ve got quite a boner there, don’t you, dude? Hard to overlook it.”

  “Yeah. I’m hard up. Couldn’t help it. Maybe I should have taken a cold shower, instead!” Bob tried to joke.

  “That’s okay. God knows we can’t control it, can we? I know I always seem to get hard at the most inconvenient times.”

  “Is this an inconvenient time?”

  “Is that a proposition?” Urban retorted.

  “Yeah. You want to fool around, don’t you?”

  “I guess I could stand to drop a load,” Urban said, with an insouciance which Bob found infuriating.

  “Oh, aren’t you the cool one! Who do you think you’re kidding? We both know you want me. So—how come you’re still dressed? Come on, get naked. Hurry up, will you? Strip!”

  “Sure.” Slowly, Urban got off the bed, still staring at the other young man’s grossly apparent hard-on. He began to unfasten and divest himself of his clothing, piece by piece.

  “Wait,” Bob urged.

  “Wait for what?”

  “For this, fucker!”

  Almost angrily, Bob went up to his friend, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and pulle
d his face against his, so that the two men’s lips could meet in a wet, hungry kiss of pure erotic desperation. “Yeah, goddamn you, wait, fucker,” Bob mumbled. Urban moaned incoherently by way of response into Bob’s open, searching mouth, but he made no effort to resist when the other powerfully muscled athlete crushed him in his embrace.

  Bob locked his arms around Urban’s waist and he explored the interior of his mouth with his tongue for a long moment—and Urban, suddenly responding passionately to the unexpected kiss and embrace, put his hands on Bob’s bare back, running his palms slowly down his flesh from his shoulder blades and his exceptionally well-developed lats to his towel-swathed ass cheeks, which protruded like two solid globes of hard, unyielding muscle.

  Urban grabbed hold of the towel and yanked it away from Bob’s body, so that the other man was nude. His fingers gripped the two hairy, muscular spheres of the muscle stud’s butt cheeks hard, and then dug into them and pulled Bob’s naked and agitated crotch roughly against his own crotch, grinding their genitals together through the soft fabric of Urban’s clothes.

  Moaning, Urban sucked on Bob’s stiffly extended tongue, while they dry-humped like that for a minute or two, Urban’s fingers still kneading Bob’s buttocks, like those of a skilled masseur. All the while, the television show’s soundtrack, replete with terse dialogue and gunshots, echoed in both men’s ears, but they ignored it, so that it became a mere background for their mounting, mutual passion and lust.

  “Thought I’d take the risk,” Bob mumbled. “Even though you ended up punching me in the mouth—!”

  “I have no desire to punch you in the mouth, just in case you haven’t noticed,” Urban assured him. “And, hell! If you’d hadn’t done something, given me some hint, I’d have throw myself at you by now, like a whore. Begging to suck your dick, lick your ass—! Or just jerk off, over that body of yours.”

  “I’m going to leak jizz all over your pants if we keep necking like this,” Bob warned the other man, breathlessly, interrupting their feverish kisses and pushing Urban away from him. “You’d better get undressed, buddy. And fast! Look at this dick of mine. I can’t wait much longer. I’m going to explode. I almost came in the shower. I want you, Urban1 I want us to make love.”

  “I’m glad,” Urban choked out. “I want you, too, Bob! I’d better shower—”

  “Fuck that shit! You can do that afterward. I want you—I have to have you—right now. Get those fucking clothes off!”

  Groaning with anticipation, Bob forced himself to back off, to restrain himself, during the short time it took Urban to shed his clothes. Grabbing the remote, Bob turned off the television. He sat down heavily on the edge of one of the two beds, actually trembling, so urgent was his need, while he watched Urban quickly and clumsily undress, throwing his things down on the hotel room’s floor.

  “You’ve got a nice body, too,” Bob commented with a sigh, when Urban finally stripped out of his underwear, his skin glowing palely in the dim light. “And you’ve already got a big hard-on, too,” he observed, with lewd relish.

  “I’ve been fighting to keep my boner down ever since you sat down next to me on the plane,” Urban groaned, as he pulled off his socks. His cock jerked up and down in front of him with his every movement. “I didn’t dare to hope—that a stud like you could possibly be gay—or interested in me, if he was! I almost came in my pants, fantasizing about you. While you were asleep, I wanted to reach over and grope you, dude, right there on the fucking plane! And when you took off your clothes just now and went into the bathroom—all I could think about was how much I wanted to jack off. You’re lucky I didn’t follow you in there and rape you!”

  “I wish you had!”

  At last both men were naked.

  “I feel pretty lucky right now,” Bob said, with a laugh. “And you don’t have to rape me, man! The truth is, I couldn’t be more willing. Come here!”

  He took a step toward Urban, who met him halfway and embraced him hungrily, their chests touching, their hands already reaching for each other’s flesh.

  Urban, Bob noted with satisfaction, was trembling, too.

  “We’re really hot for each other, aren’t we?” Urban commented. “Like a couple of horny kids—!”

  “Only we’re not kids—thank God. We’re both grown men. And we know what we want from each other.” Bob grabbed Urban’s hand, raised it to his lips, and sucked the middle finger inside his mouth until his lips were closed snugly around the knuckle. He nursed on the finger for a long moment, tickling it with his tongue-tip, and then he relinquished it, only to kiss Urban’s open palm instead. The skin tasted ever so slightly salty from Urban’s sweat.

  Bob licked the palm, and then he sucked on its skin, noisily. “I want to suck you like this, all over,” he panted, feverishly. “I want to lick and suck and taste every part of you, Urban!”

  Urban gasped, but he said nothing. He only groped blindly between their bodies with his free hand until he found Bob’s cock, which he pressed against the shaft of his own wildly aroused phallus.

  “Don’t tease me too much tonight,” he warned Bob, breathlessly. “I’m too fucking hot! I’m ready to pop any minute now. Can’t you feel it, stud? Can’t you feel what you’re doing to me, the way you make my jizz rise up in my balls and drip out of the end of my dick?”

  “Can I?” Bob groaned. “What do you think I’m feeling?”

  Bob went into a veritable frenzy of lust! Still gripping Urban’s hand by the wrist, he sucked on the fingers again, furiously, and next he bit into the flesh. He rubbed the hand all over his face and through his hair in a wild caressing motion. As he did so, he used his own fingers to explore the shaft and tip of Urban’s prick, and he quickly confirmed what the other man had just said. Urban was indeed dripping jism, his cock wildly excited and already pulsating with orgasm-like tremors of uncontrollable sexual response.

  But Bob didn’t mind if his hookup ejaculated. If anything, he wanted Urban to pop his load quickly! He was confident that he’d be able to coax more than one orgasm out of the other stud’s balls. And the thought of helping that big, hard dick of Urban’s to erupt into a tiny geyser of hot sperm almost sent Bob’s own libido hurtling over the edge into spontaneous release!

  However, he gave Urban a moment in which to cool down. Gently, silently, he pulled the man down onto the nearer of the two beds with him. They left the light on, and stretched out on the mattress together, with Bob rolling on top of Urban, almost crushing his slighter frame with his heroic bulk. They began to kiss each other again, their hands once again busy on each other’s bodies, their cocks dueling together—equal in rigidity and potency, in barely pent-in readiness to spurt.

  Bob teased Urban, grasping both of his wrists and pinning them down on the mattress, as though the two men were wrestling. Bob had a gut instinct that the other man would get off on this display of strength and aggressiveness—that it would all become part of his sex trip, his excitement at making out with a professional athlete. Bob was going to give the guy a souvenir of their chance meeting, all right. A much better souvenir than just his autograph!

  While he held Urban down on the bed, he slithered halfway down the other guy’s torso, until he could fasten his mouth over each of Urban’s lust-stiffened nipples in turn, and suck them deep inside his ravenous mouth.

  Bob wanted to find out whether Urban’s tits were as responsive as his own. They were! When he bit gently into the chest flesh which surrounded the base of the cone of one nipple, he rubbed his tongue rapidly back and forth over its tense point.

  Urban grunted and squirmed helplessly under him, trying to break free, but of course failing, because the football player was so much stronger. It was obvious to Bob that he liked to have his nips worked on. Bob’s own pecs were pressed against the upward thrust of Urban’s prickshaft, and he got even more excited himself, even more hungry for his new fuck buddy’s flesh when he felt the hot tip of Urban’s prick leak its slimy overflow of fresh jism against
his sweaty chest hair—when he felt, too, Urban’s swollen balls rub restlessly against his abdominal muscles, the testicles heavy with their load of cum.

  Urban’s sturdy legs, positioned on either side of Bob’s heavy, supine torso, suddenly lifted, his knees digging into Bob’s ribcage to trap the young stud on top of his threshing body, while his nipples burned and throbbed against the flat of Bob’s rasping, swabbing tongue, which continued to torment him.

  “Bastard,” Urban groaned, flinging his head from side to side on the mattress. “Sexy bastard! Oh, motherfucker—Bob, you motherfucking stud bastard, you! Oh, Christ, you’re hurting me, man! But no, don’t stop! It hurts, but in a way that feels so damn good. Only—I’m afraid you’re going to make me come!”

  “I want to make you come,” a breathless Bob admitted, reluctantly pulling his lips away from Urban’s chafed-looking nipples, and staring down at his lust-contorted face.

  “Not yet! First, suck me, Bob. Suck my cock!”

  “All right! But come here. I want to try something different.” Bob jumped up, and, still holding Urban by the wrists, he yanked him to his feet, as well.

  He pulled his flushed and very erect sex partner out of the space between the two beds, to where a low wooden table with an oval top stood in the hotel room, between two chairs. Unceremoniously, Bob shoved Urban against the edge of the table.

  “Sit down,” Bob insisted. “Get your ass on the table! And spread your legs—wide! I want to try sucking you off like this. I want to get down on my knees on the floor and shove your prick down my throat and choke on it!”

  A bit bashfully, Urban parked his butt on the table, his legs dangling over its edge, his ass cheeks flattened against its top. Bob hunkered down into an obscene crouch on the floor in front of him, so that his torso was wedged between Urban’s thighs and his face was poised only a few inches away from Urban’s groin. Excited by the prospect of sucking him, Bob leaned forward to get an even closer look at the other man’s crotch.