AB BLASTER 5000
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM
"Oh, no, not again!" I said as I pulled up to my house and saw the large, square cardboard box sitting out by the curb. Garbage pickup was four more days away, but that wasn't what I was worried about; no doubt some neighborhood kid would grab the box to build a fort or a playhouse or a machine gun out of it well before then. No, it was the contents of that box that I was interested in...or dreading.
I got inside and the sound of the door opening and closing brought Kevin out with a big grin on his face. He was wearing only a pair of sneakers and navy blue shorts, his hairy chest gleaming with a light sheen of sweat, his dark brown hair in its typical disarray. His smile was a white gleam on his alabaster skinned face. Kevin is too pale to tan properly; he always turns a very light golden color which promptly peels off. I spent my sunny afternoons rubbing suntan oil onto his body. A dirty job, but someone has to do it.
Kevin slid into my arms and planted a big kiss on my skeptical face. "Evening, honey." he said to me. "How was your day at work?"
"Where is it?" I demanded to know instead.
He didn't pretend not to understand me. "In the family room." he said.
"Why did you put it in there?" I said. "Why not in the bedroom next to the treadmill and the home gym and the stairmaster?"
"Because this one is different." Kevin said.
"You mean you'll use this one?" I said sarcastically. That sounds mean, a person is on a fitness kick and you're supposed to support them. I would except that the garage was loaded all along one wall with Kevin's attempts at physical fitness.
"Don't be like that." Kevin said petulantly. "I need to work on my abs, you know that."
Kevin had a small (very small) set of love handles. "You could eat more salads." I said, being deliberately unhelpful.
"Oh, you!" Kevin said, slapping at me, and getting a grin out of me.
"Well, it's your money." I said. "You want to buy this crap, it's your business, I guess."
"Don't you want to see it?" Kevin said.
"Can't we eat dinner first?" I asked. Then a suspicion hit. "You did fix dinner, didn't you?"
"I've been busy setting up the new machine all afternoon." Kevin said. He worked out of the house, the lucky bastard, I had to go into the office for umpteen hours a week.
I sighed. "I'll call out for a pizza. You can show me your latest toy while we wait." I lifted up my cell phone and hit the speed dial. A sign of my lifestyle, three of my ten speed-dial buttons were for fast-food delivery places.
I ordered us a medium cheeze pizza and breadsticks and hung up. "Okay, let's see the latest prodigy that's going to give you bigger pecs."
"This one is for my abs." Kevin bragged.
"Abs, pecs, what's the difference?" I asked as I followed him into the family room.
"There it is!" Kevin threw his hand out in a grand gesture. "What do you think?"
"It looks like a giant tricycle with the seat on backwards." I said, peering at it.
"It's called the Ab Blaster 5000." Kevin said. "All I have to do is sit in it, turn it on, and watch television for a half hour while it does all the work."
"Hmm." I said. "Exercise for a couch potato, huh?"
"You can use it, too." Kevin said.
"Ouch!" I said. He'd gotten the better on me on that one! "Okay, what do you mean it does all the work?"
"It's got the motor down here." Kevin said. He sat down and locked his legs under the foam-rubber pads, the sort that you usually have on a machine to do leg-lifts on weights. Then, he bent over to flip a switch between his legs and grabbed hold of the overhead handles with his hands. "You get five seconds to finish getting in position before it begins."
"Begins what?" I asked, but the answer showed itself. The entire contraption began to move. Kevin was lifted by the seat outwards. He went from a seated position to a straight-out position (though at a 45-degree angle, not upright) and back again. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. In less than a minute, he was being bucked back and forth at a pretty rapid pace.
"You see?" Kevin said, somewhat breathlessly. "My abs get worked for me. I just sit here and watch the television."
"If you can focus on the television set with that going on." I said. Kevin's muscles were being moved, though I wondered just how much flexing alone with no tension was going to do for him.
"How does it look?" Kevin asked me. "I feel kind of silly, now I got it turned on, doing this and just hanging on. The cute guys on the television made it look easy and fun. Do I look totally stupid here?"
"Not totally stupid." I said, with a little too much emphasis on "totally."
"Jerk." Kevin said without any heat. "Really, what does it look like?"
I considered it, his lovely body sliding back and forth. "It looks like...it looks like..." I was watching the part of his body moving the most. His crotch. "It looks like a real waste not to use some of that for myself is what it looks like."
I reached down and caught hold of his basket and Kevin just chuckled. "You thought of that, too, huh?"
"Think it'll really work?"
"Only one way to find out." Kevin said. He reached and turned off the machine, with difficulty because he was being buffeted back and forth, it looked a little painful, being bucked while bent over like that. But he got it off and the machine slowed down and stopped. He lifted his legs out from behind the pads, and said, "Strip me."
I grabbed the navy blue shorts and tugged them off. "Want the sneakers, too?"
"Nah, leave `em on." Kevin advised. "We got to hurry before the pizza gets here." He pumped at his cock and brought it up to its usual nine inches of hard man-dong. Kevin always gets it hard in a hurry, it's one reason we're together. Okay, THE reason we're together. That may sound shallow of me, but while common interests are all well and good, you can get that from your friends, it takes a horny lover to satisfy you the rest of the time.
"They said forty-five minutes." I advised. "Now slide forward so I can slick you up."
"Lube's upstairs."
"My mouth isn't."
"Ooh, I like the way you think." Kevin said as I grabbed hold of his cock as I knelt down.
"It's why they made me the shipping manager." I said. "I know how to handle the big loads." And I slipped my mouth over his cock.
Kevin lowed like a cow I had heard, a long moaning sound. "Mmm, damn, baby, you do that better than anybody I know."
I grinned around his prong and kept on sucking. Kevin knew how to show appreciation for a blow-job, it made it so much easier to keep on giving them. Kevin kept up a stream of appreciative moans while I turned his tool into a slippery tower of potent strength. I stood up, then, and said, "Now, keep that thing up with happy thoughts while I get out of these clothes."
"Always, just by watching you." Kevin said. God, that man can sweet-talk me when he wants to!
With my heart singing, I slipped off my tie and undid my shirt. My shoes were simple to slip off and I peeled my shirt off. Kevin was watching it all with a rapt expression, like he was still madly in love with me. Okay, so he is. We're just a couple of mad-cap lovers.
I got out of my pants with ill grace, stumbling, but then the boxers came off easy and that left my t-shirt.
"That's enough." Kevin judged. "You got enough off to let you climb on. And you need something on so you can answer the door when the pizza gets here. Can't you see the look on the guy's face when you answer just wearing a t-shirt and a pair of socks?"
"Knowing the delivery guys we got around here, he'd probably drop the pizza and land on his knees in a heartbeat. Lots of twinks deliver pizza these days." I got up straddle of him. "Okay, Kevin, soon as I get this thing in, you flick the switch."
"Get ready for the ride." Kevin said. "This thing bucks harder than it looks like, I know, I wasn't expecting it to be such a hard jolt when I saw it on TV."
"I'll be ready for it." I promised and I guided the slick missile into my anal silo. Yeah, that's what I was thinking when I slid it in, a big, sticky man-missile heading into me, steel-hard and bullet-nosed. I got the head and a bit more in, and then I nodded to Kevin.
The machine began to move and Kevin's body was pushed upwards. I staggered a bit as he rose up, he was moving different than he would if he was fucking me. But I got up on my tiptoes and spread my legs, and Kevin was rocking me on each upward thrust, but otherwise, we were in business.
"Yeah, that'll do it." I sighed as he began to move faster. The machine had a pretty fast speed, something like fifty strokes a minute, the speed was part of the exercise according to the manual (I read all this later), and I was soon in blissful delight, swaying back and forth on my toes wasn't uncomfortable yet, and Kevin's dong was at its usual rock-hard rigidity, riding in and out of me, and I was getting it with none of the unevenness that inhibits every bout of lovemaking, the slight slip, the slide of the knees on the sheets that changes the angle, the pause and shift of the body to get back upright, this machine was awkward (not its fault, it wasn't meant to be a fuck machine) but it maintained a steady rhythm that never varied.
But that rocking motion got damned hard on my toes. I gave up and shifted forward and rested my weight on Kevin's body entirely, now I was riding up and down with him, but the cock still went in and out of me, as Kevin shifted from straight-body to sitting, and this was better, I grinned at him and we kissed as we rode up and down the bronco-like machine, and the motion caused our teeth to collide, they clinked against each other, a distinct sound though mostly traveling through the bones, and a hell of a vibration.
So I raised back up and Kevin panted, said, "Damn, this is getting me damned hot."
"That's the idea." I agreed, and my own breath was getting tight.
"I mean, I'm about to shoot." Kevin gasped. "You ready for it?"
"You know me."
"I sure do." Kevin agreed. He meant I usually hit my climax right after his. There's something about having my lover shoot his wad that triggers my own, it's just knowing that he is in that spot of sheer rapture and unadulterated bliss, I want to join him there, and my body takes that as its cue. One of these days, Kevin would try to trick me or something, come just after we had barely begun. When he did, I'd learn how much that really meant to me. I wouldn't put it past Kevin, either, he loved ringing in changes on me.
So I let my own body's pleasure rise up in me just as much as it wanted, no baseball team names or images of a naked grandmother for me! It was go for it, penis, get ready to blow it all over that warm, furry coat of hair on Kevin's chest where it belongs!
That fur was rubbing my own stomach and sternum, a brush much like the way a Persian cat when he purrs and rubs up against you, firm and warm and friendly and soft, and it was wetted by sweat from his body and from mine, I looked down at Kevin with glazed eyes and his mouth was an "O" of impending orgasm, and he groaned, gurgled, his body stiffened, his cock went up into my ass and it stayed buried there, he was ignoring the machine for these seconds, and I felt the scalding spray of sperm peppering my innards, fountaining out of his dong and Kevin, my lover, my body's friend, my life-mate, gargled out his joy, and like it always did, my own body heard the passion and matched it with its own!
"Ahh, AHH, ANNHH-GUUHHHH!" I geysered my jizz over his chest and one stream even slapped up along one side of his neck, Kevin still gasping with the endings of his own climax, and my spunk sprayed over him as he continued to be buffeted by the machine as we both were rocked, no, harder, we were storm-tossed by the machine's frantic bucking.
My climax done, I feebly reached a hand up and shut the motor off, and the machine's bucking damped down into slow motions and stopped.
"So, what did you think of this machine?" Kevin panted.
"I think this one is a keeper." I said. "Good thing, too. No more room in the garage and the spare bedroom is getting crowded, too."
"Har, har." Kevin said. "I don't own that many exercise machines."
"Want to bet?"
"Define many." Kevin went cautious on me.
"More than twenty."
"That's not a lot." Kevin said uncomfortably. He had about thirty-five of them, at a guess.
"Got you." I said with satisfaction. The doorbell rang. "That'll be the pizza."
"You going to try answering it wearing only a t-shirt?" Kevin wanted to know.
"Don't tempt me." I said. "I'll take your shorts."
"If he's cute, bring him on back. We'll see if he wants a ride."
"We can print up tickets and get a booth at the amusement park." I agreed as I slid on the shorts. Digging my wallet out of my pants, I left my lover cleaning up in the family room and went to get the pizza.
THE END
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