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Originally written, with some assistance from Perchance.org's Story Generator -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Rome, the Eternal City, and also eternally boring for Vito Bianchi. The young celebrity bodybuilder/supermodel, who relaxed on his luxury hotel bed and took in the view of the sunset, didn't find Rome itself to be boring obviously. He loved it here and wanted to see everything the city had to offer before he was on the move again, but that was the problem... He couldn't go out. He wasn't allowed to. A sportswear company had hired Vito to be the face on a few promotional pictures, and the only reason they were in Rome was because they were going to use the tennis courts at Fort Italico as a backdrop. Pietro, his agent, had made it clear that he had "no time for silly caffetteria stops and giro turistico" despite them staying overnight. Right now he'd be content with some peace and quiet until the morning, but not even Vito could afford that luxury, as Pietro swung open the suite's door with force, eyes glued to his phone and giggling with glee. "Pietro, diavolo?!" Vito cursed in Italian, spooked by the doors banging. "Ever heard of knocking?" Unsurprisingly, the salt-and-pepper haired agent ignored him, simply saying: "Hah, this is great!" Vito sighed, putting a hand on his forehead. "And what exactly is 'great'?" he asked. Pietro grinned, his off-white teeth glinting in the soft light of the room. "I managed to convince those Kappa idiotis to pay us double what they offered before! Can you believe it? I'm a miracle worker, Vito mio!" He slapped his hands together, his eyes shining with delight, whilst the young celebrity rolled his eyes and grinned, leaning back on his pillow and grabbing a book to read. "Ah! Not too late up with that book, okay?" He ordered in that almost-forced tone of constant joy he put on. "The car's coming from 7am sharp, so be downstairs and ready by then, va bene?" "Va bene." Vito sighed, and with not another word Pietro laughed heartily and left the suite in a rush. The door closed with a loud click, and the room fell silent aside from the ticking of a clock and the ambience outside. The Italian man leaned up to check the door quickly, assuming for a moment that his agent would barge back in with the most pointless news, but he didn't. Vito got up, locked the door, then darted for the antique wardrobe to snag some clothes from his bags. The hunk stripped down, quickly taking a moment to admire his muscular physique teetering on the edge of extreme bodybuilding, and rub over the lump in his underpants that was his gigantic package. Vito barely suppressed a moan and got semi-hard, but resisted touching himself more until later. Reaching into his baggage, Vito pulled out a pair of denim jeans and pulled them on, struggling to get the waistband past his bulge and ass due to their size. He also grabbed a plain button shirt and barely managed to slip it on, looking down at how wide the button gaps were. "Oh yeah." Vito muttered to himself, grinning a little as he listened to the shirt creaking when he flexed. "Così buono." Vito quickly shut the curtains in his suite, then went into the bathroom and did the same. Being such a luxury room, it had plenty of big windows that gave him a great view of the city, but those outside a great view of him. He reached into the walk-in shower and turned it on, already feeling the heat blast from it making him sweat. Vito stepped beneath the cascading water, enjoying it run down his toned figure and soak into his clothes, then reached for a bar of soap to lubricate his hands. Now all set to have a little fun, the Italian stud quickly got to work pleasuring himself. *CREEAAAK* With one arm Vito flexed, feeling the sleeve bunch and strain against his immense bicep, while his other went down and grabbed at the spherical mass pushing at the front of his jeans, gently shaking it. He moaned and arched his back, thrusting his hips forward slightly as he did so, the jeans growing tighter around his cock. His muscles flexed and glistened with water, his six-pack abs visible through his shirt. Feeling his erection grow, Vito brought his second arm up to flex. *POP!* Went one of the shirt's buttons off his chest, further stretching the others. A seam on his left sleeve began to open itself, and the fabric bunched up above his bulging shoulder. The Italian man's bodybuilder physique was practically glowing, his veins standing out prominently against his taut skin as he flexed. He threw his head back, letting out a low growl as he arched his back, causing his abs to tense and his cock to further tent his jeans, the zipper of which bust open as well. "Cazzo..."He grunted as he flexed harder, the shirt stretched impossibly tight over his lats and biceps, the seams almost ready to pop. Vito was already so close to exploding... Grabbing the ripped fabric and yanking it off with all his might, Vito's godlike upper body was left exposed to the hot water. His muscles flexed and pulsed with power, his biceps bunching into cannonballs. After what remained of his pants' zip broke apart, his log and nuts were only held back by a soaking pair of briefs which struggled to contain them. Pre-cum drooled out the tip of it, forming a tiny pool on the floor as he continued to pleasure himself. "I'm so close..." Vito panted, massaging his engorged manhood as he flexed his other arm. The thick veins on his bicep pulsed with power, the muscle flexing and straining against his glistening skin. He could feel his orgasm building, pressing against the last barrier of his wet briefs. He groaned, arching his back as he thrust his hips forward, the water splashing around him. Now came the part of this he loved the most: the building pressure before an ejaculation... A strange but welcoming thing that always happened with Vito when he was going to cum was a rapid expansion of his privates - and boy, did they grow! His cock stretched impossibly long, as if reaching for something just out of his grasp, and its girth grew as well, filling his struggling briefs to their breaking point. His balls swelled bigger than ripe peaches and tightened. Gripping his shaft and feeling something hot run up it from inside, Vito knew it was time. "ARGH CAZZO!" The Italian hunk yelled out as he buckled. His erect éclair exploded, with hefty douses of Bianchi cream spilling from it. The tip of his briefs filled up a little, then started to leak what it couldn't hold onto the shower floor, where the running water pulled it along to the drains. Vito, meanwhile, was catching his breath as he took in and glowed over how intensely he came. In fact, the pleasure of that orgasm was so amazing that no sooner had he reached towards the shower handle to switch it off, there came another rising up his shaft, and at breakneck speed! "Ohh- oh my god!" Vito gasped out. "A-anothe- AAH!" His second orgasm, while certainly not as powerful as the first, was none the less satisfying for Vito. Another thick rope erupted out through the drenched fabric, making his gigantic cock throb again. The warmth spreading through his body and the feeling of release couldn't be described as anything less than intoxicating. He craved for more, but knew that wasn't possible right now. "Okay... that was fun..." He chuckled almost childishly, standing up and flexing whilst a strand of seed hung off the tip of his clothed erection, whiffing in the arousing scent of musk on his figure. As he left the shower, Vito looked down at what remained of his button shirt scattered all around him, while peeling off his sodden jeans gently and grinning smugly at them. "Not bad, man..." He dumped the torn clothes in a bin, then he covered them with some more trash to be positive they wouldn't be spotted if any maids came to tidy the place while he was gone. The supersized supermodel reached for some toilet roll and wiped the hanging cum strand from his flaccid dick, then flushed it and dried himself off quickly, donning nothing but his still-soaking wet underwear. Vito left the bathroom and strolled towards his bed, a satisfied smirk across his handsome face. "Ugh, cazzo..." He once again cursed, exhausted but euphoric as he got under the sheets and closed his eyes. "I can't wait to just go home." Vito couldn't help but chuckle as he thought about how much fun he had in the shower. All of his body tingled with pride, and the damp briefs still clinging tightly to his waist beneath the covers made him a little pent up again - albeit not enough for a second round. With that, the celebrity's eyes finally shut and he drifted to sleep, where a pleasurable wet-dream already awaited him...

I had been collecting data about him for months. Almost two years. I had pulled out all the stops, bribing government workers of his native country, one guy who lived across the street, the parking attendant of his favorite gym, even an engineer of his mobile phone / internet service provider. It had cost me a small fortune. I knew everything there was to know about his comings and goings, his habits, his whereabouts, his visits to family and friends, his hangouts. All his activities were following a regular plan, a strict schedule, leaving little to spontaneity, or unexpected events. Not very surprising, the man was a dedicated athlete, one of the very few top pro super-heavyweight bodybuilders in the world, so every aspect of his life was directed by extreme self-discipline. Every other month, on the third Friday, he was taking a train to visit his family. At 9:17am. The railroad network in Slovakia was inexpensive, but not very modern nor well maintained, especially on secondary lines like the one he was taking. It took that train six hours to make the two hundred and sixty kilometers course. So, I know what you're thinking, that stuff I did is creepy as hell, I am a twisted, deranged psycho, a predator, and to that, I must say, guilty as charged. I was just so obsessed by that man. Meeting him, talking with him was my one and only dream. I didn't have any further expectations, I did have fantasies about him, I must admit, but honestly, it wasn't what that operation was about. I wasn't silly, nor "deranged" enough to expect for one single second that this hero of mine would ever consider anything physical with me, except maybe crushing my skull with the flick of a finger. I even tried to keep any sexual thoughts about him clear off my mind. Nothing of the sort could ever happen, to begin with, and also, letting my brain go down that road would most likely making me lose my cool, act ridiculous, and, yes, creepy as hell, just ruin everything. And there I was anyway. I had carefully chosen the right moment for my encounter with the bodybuilder. I was alone on the platform of a tiny station, first one outside the city. That particular Friday was right in the middle of official holidays, so the occupancy of the train would be reduced to a minimum. There will be nothing surprising about that train being almost empty on that date. Besides, he had his first major competition of the season in less than three weeks. The man was famous for being in great physical condition all year long, but with an upcoming competition he will certainly look even better. The train stopped in the station, my heart was racing like crazy already, so I went on the train, in the right car, heading to the right compartment. He sat at the same place every time. I walked past the compartments. All empty. There was no one but the two of us on the train, save a few employees and the conductor. The whole train. I had made sure of it, as A had bought every single seat on the train but his. I pulled the latch of his compartment's doors with a trembling hand and they slid open, And here goes "Sorry Sir do you..." I stopped right there, thinking he probably wouldn't be minding anything I say or do. He just wasn't there. --------------