The following story is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately depict, nor reflect upon persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most state and countries, you are not allowed to read this story by law. This is fiction. Do not forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matter'; got condom?
"Muscle Jocks For Domination" 20 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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"Rest period's over, Rick."
"I think I've had enough, sir," Rick tells Verraros, after an hour of abs-testing.
"Had enough, Rick? Don't shit me."
Smiling, Rick knows the score.
"I know you all too well, Rick. What's it been, five months?"
"Next week is our anniversary. Six months."
"Time flies when you're having fun, huh?"
Not only the kinky bdsm, but the real feelings Max has for Rick, begins to ride his soul. With the exchanged words, the chaps-clad master moves closer to his `boy'. With his hands pawing the twenty-six year olds sides, their lips unite.
Holding his master, in reciprocal action, Rick replies to the affection given, "I was going to wait till next week... our anniversary date... make it kind of special, Max..."
"You're leaving me?" the astonished look filled Max's face, as well slightly releasing the muscled biceps.
"Hardly. I've been thinking about what you said about moving in with you."
Seeing the punchline coming, the twenty-eight year old master smiles, reflecting on the deep bonds that have developed between the two muscled executives.
"But..."
A flash of hope dissipated from Max's being.
"But what, Rick?"
"I just wanted to know about Steve."
"Steve? What do you want to know?"
"You wanted him to come here. I wanted to know your intentions. That's all."
Laughing, Max told him, "Steve is a play toy. I like to play with his emotions. He's fun." Then, falling into a more serious trance, he gazed into Rick's eyes, saying, "What I need is a partner."
"Partner? I thought I was your boy."
"Yeah, okay. You're my boytoy, but in bed, by my side," Max began to lay it on deep, as if packing the butter on a bagel, "a boy, a man, by my side. Then again, a man who can take what I dish out. You're all of that, Rick."
"Wow! I didn't know you felt that deeply about me, Max."
"Rick, there's another thing."
"What's that?"
"There's a counterpart to all that we are to each other. In reality, the most important part of the equation... Do you love me, Rick?"
Smiling, now behaving as the dominant half, Rick took over the sweet approach of love making. His hands coursing over the master's back, reaching underneath the leather straps of the harness, his chest and stomach pressuring the leather pieces across the frontal area, Rick forced his lips into love play, as well as answering the question with his actions.
Breaking up their love action, Max replies, "I guess you've answered my question."
"Yeah, okay. How do you want me?"
Before Max Verraros can dream up the holding position for the fist-to-gut workout, he reaffirms the vow of love. Palms to his torso, Max lines up their naked crotches, lip-locking Rick.
"Hmm... I think maybe your abs have taken enough punishment for one night, Rick."
"Ooooh. Come on, Max."
"Alright. Have it your way, but only ten or so more, Rick and then we're hitting the sheets."
"Ten? A wimpy ten?"
Standing there, Max wondered who dominated who. Like usual, he was letting the twenty-six year old, bottom, muscled jock get his way.
"Over there, Rick and grab a bedpost in each hand."
Rick literally ran to the foot of the king-sized bed, turning his back to the mattress. Stretching his arms out, he leapt up a bit, to capture the posts in each hand, wrapping his palms around the narrow part of each stanchion, on tippee toes. Right away, feeling the tension mount in his abdominals, stretching every fiber of muscle tissue, his obliques stretched to the max, encouraged the moment to grow erotic. Soon he would be feeling the hot, twenty-eight year old hunk's hot fist in his gut, testing the brick abs that he's worked on everyday at the gym.
"I'm not holding back like I did a few minutes ago, Rick."
"Cool," Rick responded.
Building up the scene, had become part of the hot play between the dominant master and his muscle jock for abuse. Even though, at times, it had been hot to tie Rick's wrists to the tall bed posts, now the turn on had already been implanted. All that remained is the `play' factor.
Holding his fist up, Max told Rick, "My heavy fist is going to be wearing down your hard abs, boy."
"Cool," the turned on response came, as Rick tensed his own abs, the dark brown, defined trail, separating his abs, doing it's own little snake dance.
"Going to start here," Max threatened, three fingers pressing right above Rick's hairy bellyhole, putting a dent in his stomach.
"Oh fuck, just do it!" Rick's insatiable desire provoked.
To humiliate Rick even more, he smiled his evil smile, so much a part of Max Verraro's play, as his unclenched hand pawed the hairy mass, mid chest, circling till it connected with one of Rick's nubs.
"Oooooooh!" Rick sighed, the hand gliding over his pec, as he looked down.
Grinning, Max, in his own glory, fingered the left nub on the muscled pec, grabbing it between fingernail and thumbnail, torturing the little tidbit, grasping it and pulling hard away from Rick's pec.
"Oh fuck yeah!" Rick cried out, arching his back and dropping his head back, sighing with immense pleasure and pain.
The good, good feeling made Rick forget about Max's fist hovering around his stomach.
"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" Rick cried out, his shoulders suddenly conforming to the impact of Max's fist's punching force.
Backing off, Max smiled, rubbing his crotch.
"Ohhhhhh..... oooooh man...." Rick sighed.
"Good one, huh boy?"
"Ye..... yes, sir...." He tried to regain control.
However, Max was eager to make it to the bed scene, for relief, so then went at Rick's gut, full force, both fists.
"Time to go for a ride, boy!"
Rick held on to the bed posts, taking everything Max had to dish out. Fist after fist, delved into the muscle jock's belly, taking a small toll, until Rick began to lose his restraining grips.
"Wimp!" Max Verraros accused him of, after about twelve punches.
Making a statement, Max grabbed each of Rick's lowered wrists, the ones moving, to protect the gut-bashing and held them up to the bedposts.
"I'm not finished with you yet, boy!"
High in the erotic mode, both played the game, as Rick answered, "Yes, sir," once again gripping the wooden poles.
"Ugggghhhh! Ugggggh! Uggghhhhhh!" Rick took each gut punch, then a double jab, "Ughh! Ugh!"
Max knew when the end of their play came, as Rick let go of his bondage position, falling to his knees, doubling up.
"Oh man was that fuckin' hot!" Max cried out, rubbing each fist against a palm.
Both sweating, knew this part of their evening `workout', outside of the bed perimeter, had come to a close. As has happened numerous times, Max walked around the perimeter of the bed, crashing into the mattress.
"Hurry up, Rick... I need an ass to fuck, before I lose it!"
Even though he still needed time to recover, his inner being responded to the remark. Like Max Verrraro's need to punch fuck ass, Rick needed to feel the torture tool plow his ass. Getting up, he steadied himself with grabbing one bedpost with both hands. They slid above his head, his chest and stomach lining up with the tall pole.
"Oooooooh fuck!" He called out.
"You alright?"
"Oh, I'm more than alright, Max," Rick replied, calling the `master' by his rightful name, as the play time wound down.
"How's the abs?"
"Fuckin' hot!" Rick reported back, a hand slipping to his stomach, to make sure they were still there, then joking, "Mushy..."
"Fuck that! They could still take another twenty."
However, feeling the compassion engulfing his being, plus the need to work his hard shaft, Max rises up from the bed. Kneeling, he takes Rick's arm, dislodging them from reaching upwards. Falling backwards, he pulls the six foot, one inch jock on top of himself.
"Oooophfff!"
Then flipping Rick over onto the bed, Max does something that doesn't surprise the `boy'. Leaning his head downwards, down Rick's bod, the team boss engages tongue on the dark fur trail.
"Ooooooooh," Rick sighs, as the wet tongue mops up the sweaty abs.
As Max has done a zillion times, comes back up the trail, licking the furry path, deviating now and then to outline each abdominal line of muscle.
"Yeah," Max stops to admire, "could've worked these over some more."
However, it's his pulsating crotch that sways him, driving him onwards towards his ultimate goal.
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"I don't believe you're doing it to me again, Matthew!"
"Like you mind it, Steve?"
Steve shuts up and lets it happen, as Matt's eight inch tube massages his love chute.
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Two a.m. and Raavi's bored stiff, looking out the hospital window, at the street lamps below. Even though an intravenous unit isn't plugging his vein, to move his arm around pains him. Of course, his mind is on room 228, but without help, he finds fault in trying to dislodge himself from the bed.
"Raavi?"
"Owch!" He cries out, trying to do a sit up, to see who's poking their head between the door and frame.
"Raavi?"
"Ohhh, Luis. Come in."
"Not sleeping?"
"No, I'm awake Luis."
As Luis enters, the door remains wedged open, by an unknown presence.
Raavi hears, "A half hour kid, that's it."
"Who was that?" Raavi questions.
"Policeman. At my room. I tell him I need to see you. He let me come."
"Need to see me?" becomes Raavi's immediate concern.
"I have dream."
"Was I in it?" Raavi asks, joking.
However, as the light reflects off of Luis Alvarez's light browned face, it's revealed by the grin.
"My dream tell me that I like you."
"How much, Luis?"
"I have to come see you to tell you. What you think Raavi?"
It wasn't a dreamlike state that Raavi had felt, hours earlier. On the contrary, the twenty year old had sensed something real, when visiting the Latino in his own room.
"What do I think?" Raavi, not a great one with words, stumbled over the explanation, "I think your dream is right."
"Right?"
"I like you, Luis," became the only sensible means by which to convey the thoughts, from one twenty year old, to the other.
"I wanted to tell you that too."
With his hand on Raavi's shoulder, Luis asks, "Do you want to kiss?"
"I'd like that."
"I never kiss hombre before."
"I have... I mean, not many... before...." Raavi made his own confession.
Being that he's already versed, at kissing, Raavi reaches up and takes the back of the twenty year old Latino's head and forces it down to his. However, he tries moving the wrong arm, in the process of delivering the wet lips.
"Ooooooh."
"I hurt you?"
"Oh no. No, no, no... you could never hurt me, Luis."
A smile is followed with Luis taking his own initiative to meet Raavi on his own terms, not moving, nor flinching a muscle, for their lips to meet.
"You know what, Raavi?"
"What, Luis?"
"I like kissing hombres."
"Oh, so you're going to go around kissing lots of hombres, now, is it?"
"Oh no. Only one."
Raavi smiles at the seriousness of Luis' summation.
"Why don't you lie down here with me, Luis?"
"I fit?" Then, as Raavi moves, wincing, he replies, "Careful. I don't want you to hurt, Raavi."
"I don't want me to hurt either, but some things are worth it... I mean.. the hurt."
Either of the twenty year olds, not really versed in the gay scene, stuttered when it came to voicing their opinions, yet knew some thing had become established between the two.
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"Mmmmm... you're ass tastes so good, Joshua."
"Likewise," Josh complained, as his inner being reacted so favorably to Jordan's tongue massaging his hairy ass rim.
Reaching to Josh's hands, Jordan took them, pulling them from his sides, placing them on the hairy ass. It didn't take rocket-science thinking to figure out that Jordan asked of him.
Even so, Jordan tells him, "Pull them apart. I want to get in deeper."
Liking the sound of the idea, Josh touches his own ass, separating the mounds, splitting the hairy crevice open further.
"Oooooooh-uuuuuuhhhhhh!" the action is praised, as Jordan's tongue sinks in deeply.
The pleasure is short-lived, as Josh makes a monumental decision.
"You're turn, buddy-boy," the twenty-four year gives as explanation.
Getting up, Josh literally slaps Jordan on the ass.
"Owch! Heeeeeeey!"
"Get on your back and get those legs up in the air!"
"Yes, sir!" Jordan salutes, in the dark.
With the lamp post's shimmering through the blinds, the two exchange positions, only Jordan flat on his back, his hands under his thighs, propping his legs in the upward position. He doesn't need to brace his legs long, as Josh's muscled shoulders take up the slack.
"This is going to feel so hot," Josh anticipates, his cock head already sizing up the taut hole.
"Um, can you break me in... like slow?" Jordon begs, wincing at the touch of head to his hole opening.
"You know, I wanted... no, yearned to do this way back in college, when we roomed together."
"And you know why you didn't get the chance, too, right Joshua?"
"Sure. You claimed some bull like you were saving your cherry for 'that special guy'. So who got to finally take it?"
"You."
"Me? What are you talking about Jordan?"
"I was holding at for you."
"Huh?"
"It wasn't any coincidence that I wheeled Raavi into Luis' room."
Sitting back on his heels, relaxing Jordan's legs, still propped up on his shoulder, Josh sat back, stills keeping his cock in fucking good shape, as he listened to reason.
"What are you saying, Jordan?"
"Hee heee... It's me. I mean, I told Raavi that Luis was a hot looking guy and that possibly they could make a connection."
"You used Raavi?"
"Well, that's the way it started out, but as you can see, as well as me, it seems they kind of caught on to each other."
"You know, you're a real asshole, Jordan?"
It's then that Josh lost all sense of regarding Jordan's feelings for a slow, sweet taking of his cherry. Grabbing his muscled thighs, Josh pulled, at the same time slapping his chest against the long legs, pressing his cock forwards, till it made contact.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkoooooooohhakkkkooooohfuck!
Jordan screams out in pain, as Josh stabs him in the ass.
"Oh fuck that hurt!" Jordan complains, as Josh pulls all the way out.
"There. I took your cherry," Josh teases.
"Took my cherry? That's not how it's supposed to go!"
"Like playing with Raavi and Luis, Jordan?"
"They like each other."
"And what if they didn't. How do you know that I have feelings for you, like you have for me?"
Laying the facts on the line, Jordan thought about it for two seconds.
"Like I said, Joshua... I... I've been saving myself for that special guy. A guy that I met a long time ago, hoping to find him... get him back."
As Jordan poured out his tender feeling, his legs parted, dropping to the sides of Josh's bod. Sitting up, with little effort needed, he put his hands behind Josh's back, palms flat with his blades. Their cocks lay side by side, as their lips meet.
"So, you going to let this special guy finish what he started?"
With great muscular control, Jordan allows himself to retreat, his back slowly lowering to the bed sheet.
"Only if you're serious, Joahua."
"Serious? I was serious six years ago."
Now, in complete surrender, Jordan lifts his legs, as Josh prepares himself for a more civilized entry.
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Continued.....
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.