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" 26 wriTten by T. Chase McPhee
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Back in his office, Steve began placing his personal items in a box. On his desk, lay the memo of his promotion and a directive for moving to his new office, in the executive wing, on the fifth floor.
"Excuse me?" Came the pleasant voice.
Two gentle knocks on the open door to Steve's office, a `nice' looking guy enters.
"Yes?"
With a hand extended, "The name's Alex Brilland," the black haired man introduces himself.
Taking his hand, Steve's will wants more.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Kestner."
"So, you already know who I am."
"Yes. During my interview, they let on that I would be working with you."
"Oh, so then you're not going to work in this office."
Shrugging his shoulders, Alex replies, "Of that I'm not sure. The lady down at the reception area told me you would be in this office and to follow you around."
`Hmm', Steve silently thought. There's a couple of intimate places he'd like to lead Alex!
"Well, this are my last few moments in this office, so don't get too comfortable."
Looking Steve over, Alex thought of a lot of comfortable positions he could find comfort.
"Do you need any help?"
"Got muscles?"
"I really believe that's what cinched the job."
"Oh? Just what we need around here. Another muscle jock. I hope you're different than some of the other airheads around here!'
"Mr. Kestner, I can assure you..."
"It's Steve."
"Yes, Steve. Um, I'm really happy there's a gym here to use, but I don't abuse company time. I mean, I've got a house in the burbs and a wife to support, plus...."
Even though he remained totally contented with Matt, the thoughts of Alex being married cooled his jets some.
"What's the matter?"
"Matter? Nothing. Why do you ask, Alex?"
"Never mind."
"Okay. If you don't mind, I could use some muscle action with this box."
Steve picked the boxed goods up off his desk, handing it to Alex. One arm pressed against the Frenchman's belly, as he grabbed the sides. Alex pressed his knee up, to get leverage, placing his thigh at the bottom. When he did this, Steve's arm pushed downwards, pressing against Alex's crotch.
"Oops! Sorry about that," Steve said, feeling his knuckles against Alex's shaft and balls.
He quickly withdrew his arm and let Alex fend for himself.
"No problem, Steve," Alex smiled, face reddish, as if he had been the instigator.
"I didn't mean to.. I didn't want the box to slip and... well..."
"No problem, Steve. I'm sure you didn't do it on...."
Alex halted his gut reaction, staring at Steve.
Instead, Steve finished the sentence, "On purpose?"
Ignoring the whole situation, Alex replied, "So, what floor will my cubicle be on?"
"Cubicle?"
"I suppose you didn't get wind of any of this, but I'm your new secretary."
"Secretary, huh?"
Steve looks over the memo about his promotion.
"Oh, there it is. Hee hee... I better get used to reading the fine print. There's your name, right on the bottom... Alexander F. Brilland."
"Except I prefer Alex and leave out the `F'."
Rather than leave it out, Steve would love to put it in. What a horny character!
"No problem. Let me grab my laptop and fan, then we'll be on our way."
"Take your time, Steve."
Going to the closet, Steve bent down to take the fan, an indespensable part of his office supplies. Alex was glad the box was in front of his crotch. The curvature of Steve's dress slacks began to turn him on.
"That'll do it, I suppose."
Heading out of the office, the two boarded the elevator.
"Looks like you've got a lot of memories in here."
Oh shit!' Steve thought, I hope he doesn't see it!'
Right after he said it, he sensed `it' was already spotted, when Alex's face turned red and his stare into the bottom of the box, was highly intent.
"Hee hee... I guess you're wondering what..."
Of course Alex spotted the tan colored dildo in the box. He had one just like it, in the toolbox, located in the basement of his house, back in the burbs. To save Steve's embarrassment, he picked up on the box of pencils.
"Um yeah, Steve.. Ah, I didn't think people used pencils anymore."
"Pencils?"
"Yeah. The box says five hundred?"
"Oh that! Yeah, pencils. Ahem! Yeah, well they give them to us whether we order them or not."
Steve sighed with relief. The elevator doors popped open.
"Oops! Wrong floor," Steve quipped.
Down the hall, they heard, "Hold the elevator!"
In walked Jordan Soto and Emilio Vasquez. It was evident they had been in the gym, since the elevator stopped at the workout complex, located on the lower level.
"Hey Steve, congratulations on the promotion!"
"Thanks Emilio. Who's your friend?"
Since Jordan was not employed by Advantage Exercise Equipment, he didn't have the traditional wardrobe. In place of the suit, dress shirt, tie and dress shoes, he wore only a tank top, gym shorts, socks and sneakers. Over his shoulder was a Nike bag.
"Jordan Soto," he introduced himself, first shaking Steve hand, then lingering a bit longer with Alex's.
"Brilland, that's French, isn't it?"
"Oui, oui," Alex returned the answer, though he didn't have an accent.
"So, are you two," Steve stopped short with his sentence, remembering Alex wasn't versed on the gay in crowd at the office.
"Nah," Emilio replied.
Totally honest, Jordan says, "No," regarding his relationship with Emilio, even though he just fucked him over for forty-five minutes, "I'm Josh Courson's boyfriend."
Disregarding the `gay' reference, Steve comments, "Yes, now I remember. At the hospital. Raavi's nurse."
Already Alex had his opinions. Even though bisexual, he had a keen sense of gaydar.
"So, you're gay?" He directs to Jordan.
Emilio, thinking Alex asked him, replies with Jordan, "Yes."
"Hey, I have no problem with it," Alex tells them, adding, "Free country. Anybody can be what they want."
"And you?" Jordan asks Alex.
"Married," Alex replied.
Emilio states, "I don't think that's what Jordan was getting at."
Alex repeats, "I'm married."
Going out on a limb, Jordan takes his hand and slides in, between Alex's shirt and jacket, cupping his right pec.
"Oooooh shit!" Alex sighs.
Steve blurts out, a little pissed, "Hey, Jordan, what the fuck you think you're doing?"
"Sorry," Jordan replies, quickly withdrawing the hand.
With a grin, again reflecting that embarrassing color, Alex tells Steve, "It's okay."
This time, Jordan is a little bolder, pressing his body against the box, as he moves in to score a kiss.
"Fuck!" Is all Steve says, when Jordan's and Alex's lips meet.
Emilio laughs his ass off, then kids Steve, "I'm willing if you are!"
Breaking the sweet welcoming gesture to the newly hired secretary, Jordan busts Emilio, saying, "I just fucked your ass for an hour, glutton!"
Alex was really beginning to like the idea of working at A.E.E.!
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"Ohh..ooooh...oooooohhh..." Seb groaned, doubled up on the bench, with Josh's cock implanted in his ass chamber.
"You're sooooo nice and tight, Seb."
Half dilirious with the slow in and out massage, the nineteen year old hardly heard a word.
That is until Josh commented, "I could get sooooo used to this."
"Me too," he countered.
Seb's legs almost touched his own chest, as Josh leaned forward, to take in a sweet kiss.
"Mmmmmm," came Seb's response.
Backing off, Josh let his cock retreat, pulling out of his job trainee's ass.
"Ooooooooh," Seb sighed, disappointed, feeling the evacuation leaving his ass empty.
Standing there, twenty-four year old Josh Courson let his wet 8.5c hang down, smiling.
"Just when it was getting good."
"I know. To be continued. Let's hit the shower."
Taking a small, blue plastic box from his locker, Josh left Seb lying on the bench.
"You coming, Seb?"
"Yeah, I suppose," he replied, still in the reverie of the unfinished fuck.
When he stood, walked, for the first time he sensed how it felt to walk after getting fucked. He wondered if it hurt worse after getting pounded. Seb hoped he would find out later tonight. Stepping into the steamy shower, he followed the sound of the only shower, slapping it's jets over another human.
"Like it?"
"You bet. Um, Josh?"
"Yeah, Seb?"
"What did you mean by `to be continued'?"
"Here, soap up my back?" Josh asked, taking the cake of soap out of the blue box.
"Sure."
Beyond the fuck, the nineteen year old slowly drew interest in Josh's body, above their beltlines. With one hand, he soaped up the wide shoulder blades, feeling around each deltoid, as if da Vinci, sculpting one of his masterpieces.
"Oh man that feels so fucking good," Josh followed with a long sigh, arching his back.
"Thanks," Seb replied, getting more aggressive, working his hands down to Josh's latissmus.
Placing his arms up, Josh pressed forward, the front of his bod inches from the tiled wall. His arms up, his hands moved in front of his head, his forehead resting on them. Seb followed as if in sync with a dance partner, his hands playing up and down Josh's soapy back.
"Oh-man-oh-man," Josh repeated over and over, absorbing the reverbs of the hot body massage.
Wanting to pleasure Josh even more, Seb greased up his already rock hard cock, with the soap. Taking it in one hand, he rubbed it against ass.
Snapping his head over his shoulder, Josh sternly told Seb, "I don't get fucked, if that's what your intentions are!"
Completely backing off, soap still in one hand, his cock in the other, Seb replies, "I wasn't thinking of that."
Turning, Josh realizes the innocence of Seb's statement. Smiling, he closes in on the teen, hands going to his biceps, feeling them up. Wet head to wet head, he moves in for a kiss.
"Sorry," he almost inaudibly concedes, before connecting.
Seb drops the soap.
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"I was hoping I could stay with you, Matt."
"Boone, I wish you could, but I just moved in with Steve."
"I know and I don't want to ruin it for you. I've got about a thousand bucks saved up."
"But you need that for tuition, right?"
"Yeah, but I suppose I could rent a room someplace and work a year before...."
"Oh no you don't. I promised myself that you wouldn't do what I have to do, Boone and I'm sticking to it."
"But Matt, what else am I gonna do? We don't have many choices."
The two, sitting at the kitchen table, boy-talking over a package of Oreo's and half gallon of fat free milk, try to talk out the odds.
"Maybe I can pay Steve rent for a week, sleep on the sofa?"
Matt chews, thinking of Boone's proposition. For sure he has a good thing going with Steve, but his only brother means the world to him, as well.
"Boone, when Steve gets home, let me talk with him alone."
"Yeah, sure."
Looking at each other, both in briefs, nothing else, smile.
"What's that look for?"
"Remember when we both found out we were gay, Matt?"
"Yeah?" he returned, with a smile attached.
"I had an immediate crush on you."
"Same here. I mean, who else did I know who was gay?"
"Ditto," the eighteen year old brother went on, "Y'know, Matt, I always dreamed that you and I would live our lives out together."
"You mean as lovers?"
"Yup. When you went to off to college..."
Like a romance gone wrong, this is where Boone began to get choked up.
"I... I missed you, Matt... I still miss you."
Getting up from the table, Matt walked around the circumference of the table. Kneeling down next to his brother, he surrounded his body with warmth, hugging him closely. One thing led to another. Matt began wiping away Boone's tears, then slowly closed in on his lips. He couldn't help himself. This is how their close, brotherly relationship existed.
"Come on," Matt ended the sweet affection with. "The housecleaning can wait."
Led by the hand, he took his brother back upstairs.
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"Enjoying the gym?" Max Verraros chided.
Looking upon his newly acquired friend, Michael Metz, working out with Rick Rhodes, he stoked his cock. Faced down, Rick pumped up and down, doing pushups.
"I could get used to this boy," the thirty year old pleasurably replied to Max's inquiry.
Lying down on the blue gym mat, Michael's bod aligned with Rick's so that each pump of his hydraulic arms, lifted his mouth up down the hard shaft.
"Told you I was willing to share."
"Yeah, but for what price?"
"I didn't mention anything like that, Michael."
"Everyman has his price and for sure, you're not going to let a muscled slab of beef like this one go for nothing."
Arms on his hips, one feeling up his chest, a hand on a pec, toying with his nips through his tank top, the chief of A.E.E. lays out the option.
"Come work for me."
"I ain't nobody's slave."
"Now you've gone and done it. Hurt my integrity, Michael."
On like his two hundredth pushup, Rick slows the pace. Michael withdraws his hands from behind his head, rises from the reclining position and grabs Rick's sweaty mane.
"Did I tell you you could slow down, boy?"
It bought Rick some rest time, as Michael's tug on his head pulled him off the tall stalk.
"No, sir."
"I think he needs a rest, Michael."
"You're right. Doggie style, boy."
Rick responds, getting on all fours. Michael moves to Rick's rear with his already well-lubed cock.
"Oh man.."
"What?" Max inquires, as Michael stares at Rick's ass.
"These glutes are too good to pass up," Michael replies, rubbing his hand over the round cheeks.
"Yeah, nice ass, huh?"
"Damn nice. I prefer a smooth ass.. more fun for.."
With an evil grin, Michael looks up Max.
"What?" Max stands there with a look of puzzlement.
"Hold on a sec. Be right back."
Both Rick and Max watch as Michael heads over to where the weights are stored. Returning, the two look at the weight belt in his hand.
Max confides in Rick, "Looks like you wouldn't be sitting down for the rest of the day, Rick?"
His question came more as wanting a reaction from Rick. Whevener they played together, Max always asked his play partner if something was alright to focus on, like the bondage, gut punching or nip play. Michael was assuming it would be alright to whip Rick's ass with the weight lifting belt.
"No offense, Max, but Michael's hot."
"Turn you on, does he?"
"I'd like to feel that big fist in my gut!"
"Be careful what you wish for Rick. You might be feeling it up your ass!"
"Hell, I wouldn't oppose that either."
"Good thing you're a glutton for punishment, Rick. I have a feeling that he's not going to hold back with that belt."
Rick didn't get a chance to respond, as Michael returned, both hands feeling up the leathery implement.
"Brace yourself, boy."
Being the executive gym, no one was about except the three. Still kneeling, Rick's body sweated, both from the `bj pushups' and now the anticipation of his ass getting whipped with the leather weight lifting belt. Naked from head to toe, every follicle of dark brown hair on his chest, stomach, pubes and ass, as well as forearms, pits and elsewhere, glistened with sweat. His head resembled coming out from a shower. Michael, shortless, peeled his tank top off. Picking up the belt, he doubled it in half, matching up the two smaller ends. For starters, he rubbed the leather over Rick's glutes.
"How many you figure this boy can take?" Michael inquired of Max.
"I don't rightly know. The only time I whipped Rick was on his back and chest."
"Hmm... I'll file that for future reference."
Standing up, Michael moved the belt behind him.
Before delivering the first strike against Rick's ass, he announced, "We'll start with an easy ten."
Max looked down at Rick, for his reaction, but there wasn't any, as he stare at the mat.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" Rick screamed out as the belt pelted his ass, across both cheeks.
"Count them out, boy!" Michael ordered.
"One," Rick complied, then ranted, "Akkkkkkkkk," as the second tanned his hide. "Two."
Rubbing Rick's already red glutes, Michael complained, "Terrible manners, boy. What about thanking your master!"
With each subsequent lash of the leather weight lifting belt against Rick's ass, shaking every muscle in his body, his uttering of pain followed with the number of the lash and his grateful attitude. After all ten had been carried out, properly responded to, Michael put down the belt and slowly fed his swollen, 10c into the bright red crevice.
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"So, are there any other gay guys here, Steve?"
Departing company with Jordan and Emilio, Alex begins grilling his new boss.
"Why? Looking for a hot fuck?" Steve questioned.
At first Alex just stood there, smiling. Even though he had more or less admitted his either gay or at least bi intent, he turned a red hue.
"I dunno," he evaded giving a `yes' vote of confidence.
"Here's our floor," became a convenient delusion for Steve.
A few doors down and they entered their new working habitat.
"Nice office you have, Steve."
"Me? Mine? Got news for you. This is the reception area."
"No way. This is a lot bigger than I used to... have."
Detecting something strange, Steve wondered whether to pry or leave it til later. He opted for the latter.
"Shall we see what's in store for me? I'm sure that box is getting heavy."
That wasn't an option for Alex. Right now the only thing that mattered was his erection had subsided. So was the case. He set the box down on Steve's new desk. Visibly, he rearranged his package.
"Oh shit!" Alex said out loud, looking down.
Giggling, Steve told him, "I knew that fan would come in handy."
"Huh?" Alex questioned, looking at Steve, taking the fan out of the box.
"Take your pants off."
"What?"
"Hee hee... no. That didn't come across quite right."
"Steve, are you.... gay?"
A loud laugh pierced the quiet office.
"You are? For real?"
Steve nodded a `yes'.
"Cool," Alex replied, then tried hiding his excitement, "I mean that's... um, nice."
Then, removing his jacket, Steve sat in his new chair, trying it out for the first time, legs spread, arms behind his head, flaunting the perspired armpits.
"Now that we know what `I' am. What are you?"
"I told you. I'm married. Bisexual."
"Are you sure about that, Alex?"
"Sure I'm sure. Why, Steve?"
"Seems like you're awfully interested in the male of the species, that's all."
"Well yeah, sure. When I'm around men, that's how it is."
"And except from being at home, how much are you around men?"
Sitting on the edge of Steve's enormous, long mahogany desk, Alex perched his ass, thinking.
"I used to go to a gym, then there's the tennis club, occassional golf, though I wasn't too cool on that sport. I only went to the club, because...."
Steve smiled, watching Alex go on and on and on, chattering about his social life, taking the account of his mostly `male' life.
"....then there's shopping and..."
Alex dead-stopped in the middle of his eloquent speech, his arms folded across his middle, smiling."
"And?"
"Oh nothing."
"Got the hots for a special `man'?"
"Hell no!" Alex replied.
Steve knew that look.
"So, who is he?"
"I've never met him."
"So, at least you admit you're turned on by a man?"
Interruption can come at such sweet moments.
"How do you like your new office?"
"Nice Max," Steve jumped to his feet, grabbing his coat to put on.
"Forget the jacket, Steve. You're more appealing without it, anyways. Who's this?"
"My new secretary, that `you' hired, Max?"
"Of course. What's your name?" Max inquired of Alex.
"Alex Brilland, sir."
Immediately Max liked Alex, for the manner of reply!
"Max," Steve now addressed the head honcho, nonchalantly as if a close friend, "have you seen Rick? He was supposed to help me with my things."
"Rick is in the executive gym, entertain... I mean showing a new employee the ropes.. I mean around."
Steve wasn't any dumb bunny. He knew something was up.
"No matter. Alex came to introduce himself, in the nick of time."
At first, Max wondered about the twenty-seven year old, but confirmed his own conclusions, when he spotted what seemed to be a glistening liquid at the base of the zippered crotch.
"Well, I've got to be going. I'll be back another time to check up on things."
"Oh, you wouldn't be needing to check up on me, Max." Then, as if to doubly send a message, Steve reinforced his position, "As for Alex, I'll be filling out all his reviews, etc., etc."
Abruptly Max left the office. Steve was proud of himself for standing up to him!
"Um, do you really want me take my pants off, Steve?"
"Nah. Wishful thinking.. hee hee... just stand in front of the fan."
"They aren't really that wet."
"It's up to you. I don't want you going home and your wife spotting that wet spot."
"She wouldn't. She's not home."
"She works, then and you get home first?"
"She travels a lot. She's away for the week."
Wherever his next thought came from, Steve couldn't figure.
"Why don't you come over for dinner then?"
"Seducing your secretary already, Steve?" Alex asked, with a wry smile.
"I didn't let you in on the other little secret. I'm partnered!"
"Ouch!" Alex confessed the fool he's made of himself.
"It's okay. Happens to all of us, some time or another, Alex."
"Looks like I'm not winning any brownie points my first day."
"I don't know about that, Alex. You hit if off pretty well with Jordan Soto!"
"Oh thanks, Steve."
Looking down at himself, Alex checks his crotch, to see if the fan has dried it.
"Still wet?" Steve asks, sitting upright in his chair.
With an evil curve, Alex tempts him, "See for yourself, why don't you?"
Steve sits there, a smile on his lips, contemplating. Standing there before him, estimating him at about 5'10" tall, 185 pounds, hair as black as coal, the definitely handsome features modeled from the French culture, he swallows.
"Nah, sorry Steve. Stupid remark," Alex changes his mind.
"I don't think it's so stupid," a smile backed up Steve's statement.
Getting up from his chair, Steve stands directly in front of Alex. Starring into each other's eyes, Alex suddenly looks down, at the touch of Steve's hand to his suit pants.
"Not bad," he tells Alex.
Then, his hand senses the enclosed contents.
"Ooooooooh," Alex sighs when Steve molds his hand around the outline of the thick formation.
Releasing Alex's crotch, Steve turns, goes to the door, making sure it's secure.
"What are you doing, Steve?"
Smiling, he replies, "Getting to know my secretary better."
Walking towards Alex, Steve begins to untie the knot in his tie.
"But Steve...." Alex slightly protests, watching Steve unbutton his shirt.
"It's what you want too, isn't it Alex?"
"Hell yeah!" He admits, his hand on his crotch.
With his shirt open, draping over his waist, Steve Kestner flaunts his golden-covered chest of hair, the strip straight down his stomach, the deep innie, his golden fleece swirling around it, revealing a darker treasure trail that dips below the beltline.
"You... you're gorgeous!" Alex exclaims, holding both shides of Steve's shirt up, as if window shopping.
"And what about you?" Steve prods, loosening Alex's tie for him, as Alex peels back his suit jacket.
Taking the upper hand, Steve holds the two ends of the tie, reeling Alex in for a kiss. As he works over the twenty-seven year old's lips, his hands busy themselves removing the tie, unbuttoning and then peeling the shirt off over Alex's muscled shoulders, as if undressing a banana, letting the peel slip down his back.
"Nice. Real nice," Steve says, as if complimenting Alex on the dark fur that covers his pecs. "Nice pelt of fur," after rubbing his hand across the worked out pectorals.
"Ooooooh," Alex sighs, feeling Steve's hand rub across his hairy chest, glazing over his perky nips.
Backing off, Steve hints Alex, unbuckling his belt.
"Are you a top or bottom, Steve?"
"Get your pants off and I'll show you, stud!"
Steve doesn't even question himself, of where all this top, macho attitude is strewn from. Instead he goes with the flow, kicking his shoes off, dropping his pants, thumbs lowering the briefs, letting his already stiff 9c, popping out.
Eyes glued to Steve's crotch, Alex licks his lips, asking, "Um, is it alright if I suck you, Steve?"
Smiling, as if Max Verraro, on that same day that Steve was humiliated, he himself stands in front of Alex, going through the same motions. His hands on Alex's shoulders, he presses the hairy muscle jock down to his knees. Sighs of pleasurable agony fill the room as his secretary's mouth engulfs his shaft.
"Oh man... don't tell me you haven't done this before," Steve insinuates.
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26 Continued....
Copyright 2006 T. Chase McPhee This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission