TQuintA Posted November 28, 2022 Author Share Posted November 28, 2022 Chapter 17 The next morning, I came out of my bedroom just as Gabriel was getting back from the gym. “Morning, bud. Wanna have breakfast together?” “Sure, but, I should let you know, Douglas is still here. Is that going to be a problem?” Gabriel smiled broadly. “Not even a little. Is he awake?” “I tired him out. Let him sleep in.” Gabriel’s smile somehow grew broader. “Alright. I’m so glad things worked out.” As we got breakfast out on the table, I internally struggled with how to tell Gabriel the next thing. “Out with it,” he said as he pulled out my chair. “I can tell when you’re holding back.” I sat heavily; Gabriel sat too. “Douglas and I have decided to date, but he was very clear that he was only interested in an open relationship right now. He’s not opposed to it becoming monogamous somewhere down the line, but right now, he wants to keep dating other people.” “Oh,” was all Gabriel said, but his tone conveyed volumes: disappointment in Douglas, disappointment in me, sadness, a dollop of judgment, and just the teeniest sprinkling of anger. “He was very open and honest,” I repeated, “and, frankly, I don’t think I’m in the right headspace for a traditional relationship right now either.” “I thought you were past hooking up. If that was what you really wanted, I’d say nothing, but it doesn’t make you happy, Auggie.” “It’s not hooking up,” I insisted. “It’s a real relationship. We’re going to go on dates. Do the romance thing. Introduce each other as boyfriends. But we’re not bound to each other.” “That sounds like hooking up, but more expensive.” I shook my head no emphatically. “We set ground rules. Just like you and me did. If one of us wants to have sex with someone we both know, the other person gets veto power. No threesomes without mutual consent. Any person we ask out independently has to be told before the date that we’re in an open relationship. If we interrupt the other’s date, no lying. Check-ins at least once a month to make sure we’re both still happy with the relationship. Above all, safe sex only.” As I finished the list, Douglas came out of my room, stark naked. “Morning, men,” he said, saluting us. “Douglas, House Rules include wearing clothes in common areas,” I chided. “Right, sorry, I just came out for a glass of water, then I’ll go back and get dressed.” As Douglas got himself a glass of water, Gabriel approached him at the sink and got right in his face. “Morning, Gabriel,” Douglas said. “We seem to lack personal space in the A.M.” “Are you just using Auggie to get to me?” Gabriel asked, trying to suppress the anger in his tone. “What? No!” Douglas said. Right on top of him, I scolded, “Gabriel!” “You’re both adults, you can make your own decisions, but I don’t want some guy stringing Auggie along if he doesn’t mean it. Auggie’s too good for that.” With that, Gabriel poked Douglas in the chest so hard that Douglas wobbled. “I respect the protective vibe,” Douglas said, “but Auggie and I laid everything out last night. If he had said no, I would’ve respectfully let him be, just like I did you.” Douglas poked Gabriel in the chest just as hard, but all it accomplished was Douglas hurting his own finger. “He asked us both out, Gabriel,” I said, a comment that drew Gabriel’s eyes to me. “The date last night was for both of us. He thought we were a couple; he knew we were a package deal. He wanted to date me as much as he wanted to date you.” Gabriel snapped his head back to Douglas for him to confirm. Douglas raised three fingers on his right hand and tucked his pinky behind his thumb. “Scout’s honor.” Gabriel raised a dubious eyebrow, fully aware that Douglas was mildly—mildly—mocking Gabriel. Douglas continued, all mockery gone from his voice. “Dating men has completely changed the way I view romance. I wanted to give polyamory a try, see if it’s a fit for me. You two seemed like a safe, friendly, familiar place to start.” Looking at Douglas, still confused, Gabriel returned to his seat. Once seated, he said, “Well, alright then. I guess that’s a horse of a different color.” He didn’t sound too convinced, though. He knew an apology was in order, so he blurted, “Sorry I went all aggressive there. Can I blame the pills?” “Can I get dressed?” Douglas asked. I nodded, and he beat a retreat to my room. “What was that about?” I asked Gabriel, swatting him ineffectively. “I didn’t want him using you. You deserve better than that.” Gabriel shook his head. “I said as much.” “Thanks, but you signed my permission slip.” “I thought he was going to start a romance. Long, romantic walks? Sunset picnics? Starlight kisses? That sounds like a guy for you. I wanted you to have romance because I think you need it. I think you’re unhappy without it. For months now, I’ve seen unhappiness in your eyes. If I could give you romance, lord knows I would, but I can’t reciprocate. I wanted you to have something normal. Boy meets boy, they fall in love, flowers and puppies and midnight gondola rides… whatever guys in love do.” Gabriel rubbed his eyes frustratedly. “I barely understand normal romance. Polyamory is hieroglyphics. If you’re happy, I drop all objections, even if I do not understand this.” I stroked his arm affectionately. “I’m happy.” Gabriel nodded aggressively, and we finished our breakfasts peacefully. With that drama behind us, life settled into a new normal. Douglas and I were casually dating, enjoying the night life in a way I never could with Gabriel. Parties. Bars. Sex clubs. Fucking. On his end, Gabriel kept swelling up larger with muscle. And I do mean swelling up. By now, he was bigger than any bodybuilder I’d ever seen. He was a thick, burly, gorgeous sight—pecs that jutted out far in front of him, biceps that rose mightily like mountains with the most minor movement, thighs that were thick, powerful, and corded with steel. All his beefy, manly brawn strutting around the house—Gabriel routinely worked Douglas and me into a lather, and I know how an especially attractive and powerfully muscular boyfriend of my own to fuck whenever we could. I thought things were on the uptick, but it only lasted two weeks. 24 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted November 28, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted November 28, 2022 Chapter 18 Two weeks later—it was a Friday night—Gabriel came home from work in an utterly low mood, and no amount of prodding would get him to explain why. Come the next day, he was still in a blue funk. Douglas and I had planned on going to a party that a friend of Bridget’s was throwing, but I could not in good conscience leave Gabriel home alone. Douglas, thankfully, agreed, so the three of us decided to crash in the living room to watch a mindless action flick. Alone in the kitchen, I took my ice cream out of its hiding place and brought it out to him in the living room. “You hide ice cream from me?” Gabriel asked, and the vaguest hint of a shadow of a smile crept at the corner of his mouth. “If I didn’t,” I replied, entwining with Douglas on the sofa, “I would never get any. It’s your cheat day go-to.” Twenty minutes into the movie, Gabriel got a phone call. As he reached for his phone, his shirt tore all the way down the back, the folds and bulges of his hyper-developed back coming into full view, mounds of meat and brawn hanging off his manly frame. Normally, when something like this happened, Gabriel got a little embarrassed, and maybe blushed a little. This time, he shouted, “Fucking fuck!” and tore off his shirt. As Gabriel stood there, shirtless and heaving, his monumental hairy pecs expanding and relaxing with his heightened breathing, Douglas asked me, “How do you not bust a nut every five minutes watching him get bigger and bigger like this?” “I used to,” I admitted. Gabriel answered his phone and then perfunctorily handed it to me. “It’s for you.” With that, he went into his room to find a fresh shirt. “Who would call me on your phone?” I asked, taking it. “Hello?” I asked the stranger on the other end. “Auggie!” said a voice I immediately recognized as my brother’s. “Hey, Johnny,” I said. “Another boyfriend?” Douglas asked, excitedly interested. “One of my brothers,” I said. To Johnny, I said, “What do you want?” “I actually wanted to talk to Gabriel, but since I have you, I do have a question. You still watch those videos of Gabriel I send you, right?” “Not even one.” “I don’t believe you.” “It’s true.” Johnny scoffed. “You mean to tell me you’ve given up on Gabriel?” “As a boyfriend? Yeah. Yeah, I have. In fact, I’m sitting here right now with my actual boyfriend.” “Sure, Jan,” Johnny said. “What’s his name? George Glass?” “His name is Douglas,” I said, handing the phone to Douglas. “Say hi to my brother,” I prompted him. “Hello, Auggie’s brother,” Douglas said. As he talked to Johnny, I only heard Douglas’s replies. “No, it’s Douglas.” Pause. “Boyfriend.” Pause. “Yes, boyfriend.” Pause. “Personal trainer.” Pause. “Invite me to dinner, and maybe you’ll find out.” Pause. “Do you want me just to send you a pic? I think this phone can do that.” Douglas took a picture of himself with Gabriel’s phone and sent it to Johnny. “Yes, that’s me.” Rolling his eyes, Douglas grabbed me close to him, took a picture of the two of us together, and sent it to Johnny. “Satisfied?” Pause. Handing me back the phone, Douglas said, “Your brother asked me how big my dick is. Here you go.” With that, he leaned back on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. “How do you pull all the hot guys?” Johnny asked me. “It makes no sense. We look so alike, and I never got the hot girls.” “Careful, or I’ll tell Trina you said that. And that you asked Douglas about his cock.” “Please, I study male infertility. I’ve seen 100 times more penises than you have, and I have a rough estimate of how many you saw during your slutty college days.” “What do you want, Johnny?” I repeated. “I want you to keep Gabriel in my study.” “Gabriel is in your study,” I said. “But he’s leaving.” “Is he?” I asked, surprised. “He hadn’t told me that.” “But there are 12 weeks left in the study.” Johnny was clearly antsy. “I thought the subjects were free to leave whenever they wanted.” “They are, but I really want Gabriel to stay.” “Why?” “His muscle growth is phenomenal! Unprecedented! Completely unexpected! The most anyone has ever put on before was 5 pounds, and he was a bodybuilder. We’re just shy of halfway through the trial, and Gabriel’s put on about sixteen times as much! And his penis has grown far larger than anyone else’s ever has. If we can find out why his biology reacted to the drug in this way, we might be able to encourage muscle growth or extreme genital growth in others. We just need more time and more data.” “Have you told him this?” I asked. “Of course. But he says he wants out.” “Then, you have your answer. Bye, Johnny.” I took the phone away from my face to hang up. “Auggie, wait!” I didn’t hang up. Instead, I brought the phone back to my face. Johnny continued. “I know what kind of guys you like. Don’t you want Gabriel to stay in the trial? Don’t you want to see him get even bigger? Keep him in the trial, and you’ll have the biggest, buffest boyfriend that ever existed!” With a note of anger in my voice, I reminded him, “Gabriel’s asexual, Johnny. Aroace, in fact. Therefore, he is not my boyfriend.” Douglas cleared his throat. “Douglas is my boyfriend,” I added. Douglas grinned possessively. “Douglas is fine for now, but he’s no Gabriel. A lovely benchwarmer. Trust me. We’re just halfway through this drug trial. A little longer, and Gabriel will come around. I can still fix him. Gabriel’s hormones will finally catch up to his wiring, and I’ll have a new brother-in-law.” “We both know that’s not happening,” I insisted. Gabriel came back into the room in a new shirt that looked painted on. “What does Johnny want?” he asked. “He wants you to stay in the drug trial,” I said. I thought it was most tactful to leave out Johnny’s insistence Gabriel marry me. “Put him on speaker,” Gabriel said. When I lowered the phone, Gabriel began talking loudly, almost loud enough to be called shouting. “Johnny, I made it very clear. I’m out. It’s getting too expensive. The food, the clothes. It’s too much. And I’m hairier than a gorilla. Shaving accomplishes nothing. And I spend too much time masturbating. I’m up to three times a day! And I barely fit in the toy Auggie bought me anymore. It’s like an arm growing out of my crotch. Have you tried masturbating with a nine and a half inch dick?” Douglas and I locked eyes, mouthing, “Nine and a half?” Gabriel continued his screed, “It’s frustrating and takes too long! And when you’re not attracted to anything, it takes even longer! I am out!” Johnny cut in. “What if I paid you for your food and clothing? Not through the study, obviously, but my company has a slush fund they’ve authorized me to use." "I’m 300 pounds of muscle, Johnny. That’s plenty.” Douglas and I locked eyes again, mouthing “300?” “But you could be more. 12 more weeks at the rate you’re growing? Who knows how big you’ll get?” “But my dick will keep getting bigger. It’s too big as is.” “Talk some sense into him, Auggie!” “I’m trying to talk some sense into you, Johnny!” I replied. “Gabriel is ace. He’s never going to want me that way, no matter how many chemicals you pump into him. If he wants out, he’s out.” With that, I hung up on Johnny. “Thank you, Auggie,” Gabriel said. “Are you really 300 pounds with a nine and a half inch cock?” Douglas asked. “I exaggerated,” Gabriel confessed. “Last night, I was 282 and 9.3.” Douglas took his feet off the coffee table, stunned. “That’s not exaggerating, Gabriel. That’s called rounding.” “I was really hoping to break 300, but this is good enough.” There was an odd tone in Gabriel’s voice. Longing? Regret? I couldn’t place the emotion. “You don’t want to leave the trial, do you?” I asked. “Are you kidding? Of course, I don’t. I just can’t deal with this,” he pointed at his crotch, “any more. And it’s only getting bigger.” “That’s a solvable problem. I can get you a new fleshlight. A bigger one. With higher speeds. I’m sure Sheila can hook us up.” “But what about all the other stuff?” Gabriel was crestfallen. “Johnny really wants you in this study. He’ll buy you new clothes. And all the food you can eat.” Gabriel looked at me despondently. I continued. “I know you’re holding back from me. That’s a trick we both can do. So, spill. What’s the real reason you dropped out of the drug trial and are in this lousy mood?” With great force, Gabriel admitted, “I got fired yesterday, Auggie.” He threw himself against the couch like a toddler having a tantrum. The chair’s leg cracked. “They fired me for inappropriate office attire because I kept bursting through clothes at work. And if they hadn’t fired me for that, they would’ve fired me for something else. Ever since I started getting really big, the office has been getting worse and worse.” Without even responding to Gabriel, I called Johnny from my phone. “Hey, Johnny. It’s Auggie. I might be able to talk Gabriel back into the trial. You’re going to have to give him enough money from your slush fund so he can quit his job. It’d let him focus on getting as big as possible. He can’t commit to the drug trial and do his day job. It’s too much stress for him. It has to be his job.” “Done, done, and done!” Johnny shouted. “If we can figure out how to bottle his muscle growth or that extreme genital growth, it would be well worth the investment. My company basically wrote me a blank check.” “Good. Let me find out what his salary is, and I’ll get back to you.” With that, I hung up. “We’ll call him back after we finish the movie and name your price. Let him sweat a bit. He’s on the ropes. I’d lie through your teeth and give yourself a huge raise.” “Thank you!” Gabriel said. “But what are we going to do after the 12 weeks are up? I’ll be an even bigger muscle freak. I mean, that’s an awesome thought, but who’s going to hire me?” “Sponsor,” I said. “You sponsor bodybuilders. Right, Douglas?” Douglas nodded wordlessly. “Bodybuilding?” Gabriel said. “But I got most of my muscles through a drug trial.” “I remember you from college,” Douglas interjected. “You were already pretty big. You got your muscles from eating big, clean living, sleeping right, and a fuck ton of working out. Did you have chemical assistance? Yes, you did. High-tier bodybuilders use steroids,” Douglas pointed out. “How is this any different?” Gabriel was clearly sold. But, before he committed, he revealed his one last reservation: “But what are we going to do about,” he pointed to his crotch, “it?” Douglas pat my thigh. “Auggie and I are going to teach you how to masturbate properly. I suspect you’ve been doing it wrong. And if you really hate your cock at the end of the drug trial, penis reduction surgery exists, and I’m sure you can get Johnny to pay for it.” “Teach me to masturbate?” Gabriel shuddered in revulsion. “I wouldn’t want you in the room when I masturbate.” “I wouldn’t want me in the room when you masturbate,” I said. “I’d pay a large sum of money to be in the room when you masturbate,” Douglas said. “But I’ll respect your wishes.” “Then how can you teach me?” “Am I correct that the closest you’ve ever come to feeling sexually aroused was seeing me in the gym?” Gabriel nodded, but then added, “But it was a fluke. I wasn’t really turned on by you. The same thing happened three days ago in front of a photocopier.” “Never mind that,” Douglas said, getting closer to him. “When you saw me at the gym, or when you tried to make out with me—think back. What was the thing you liked most about me?” “I don’t know,” Gabriel said honestly. He continued to think about it deeply, so I put him out of his misery. “His beard, Gabriel. You liked his beard.” “Did he now?” Douglas said, stroking his beard, a note of delightful mischief in his voice. “In college, he picked you practically at random to pursue because he thought you were gay and hitting on him. He could tell you were conventionally attractive, but back then he probably would’ve picked any gay guy who initiated. He didn’t feel his first butterfly until you grew the beard.” “Saying I felt butterflies is a stretch,” Gabriel commented. Undaunted, I continued. “When you told me about your night alone with Douglas, the one compliment you gave was that you liked kissing Douglas more than Bridget.” “Did he now?” Douglas repeated in a higher voice, inching closer to Gabriel. Ignoring Douglas, I said, “You also pointed out the beard—it was the only part of the kiss you even somewhat liked. You didn’t use those exact words, but you said as much yourself.” “Did he now?” Douglas said again a few notes higher than last time. He got up from the couch and stalked over to Gabriel on the other couch. In a deep, lowly, and gruffly seductive voice, resonating from his chest, he asked, “Beards are your thing?” He was practically hovering over Gabriel, an inch from his face. “I don’t have a thing,” Gabriel clarified. Douglas picked up Gabriel’s hand, and ran it through his beard. “Feel it,” Douglas said. “Let it caress your fingers. Feel the fullness, and the thickness, and the utter luxury of my beard.” With a blank look on his face, Gabriel said, “It feels nice. I like it. It’s nice. But it feels nice the way a fuzzy sweater feels nice.” “Really feel it,” Douglas said, rubbing Gabriel’s hand through it. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed Gabriel’s free hand and shoved it down his shirt. “Feel my chest hair too. My fur. Its coarseness and thickness. Run your fingers all along it.” Doing his best to get into it, Gabriel analyzed the tactile sensations. “Chest hair feels better than beard hair.” “Does it ever,” Douglas said, moving Gabriel’s other hand down his shirt, both hands now circling through his chest hair. “This is pleasant,” Gabriel said. “I could get used to this.” Douglas lifted the front of Gabriel’s shirt and turned Gabriel’s hands around so he was feeling up his own chest. “You’ve got a healthy coat there too, my man.” Gabriel was rubbing his hands along his chest. “Yeah, okay. This is pleasant too. I don’t know if it’s worth the itchiness, but it does feel nice.” Douglas came back over to me on the couch. “Next time you masturbate, play with your beard and your body hair. It’ll really cut down your wank-time.” Gabriel stopped feeling himself up. “But I’m not turned on by it.” He pointed to his crotch. “See! Nothing!” Douglas chuckled. “Never said it would get your engine revving, just that it would get you to the finish line faster.” “I’ll try it.” Then, after a second, he added, “Can we go back to the movie now?” All in all, it was a good night. We cheered Gabriel up, started him down the path to becoming a professional bodybuilder, and got a buttload of money from Johnny’s company. To top it all off, later that evening, while Douglas and I were making out in my bedroom, we could hear Gabriel enjoying himself. He was louder than ever. Louder than that, even. We could hear him grunting and breathing clearly across the apartment through two locked doors. He even bellowed a stentorian, “Holy fuck!” when he reached climax. Fifteen seconds later, he was knocking on my door. I answered, and he stood there, shirtless and panting, his face aflush in the post-cum afterglow. “Okay, I kind of get the appeal of orgasms now. I’d still prefer a bowl of ice cream, but that was the best orgasm of my fucking life.” “Did you feel yourself up?” Douglas asked from my bed. “I played with my chest hair.” “And how long did it take you to finish?” “Nine minutes. It only took nine goddamn minutes. Single digits. I’ve never finished this fast.” “Glad to hear it, buddy, but why are you here?” I asked. “I gripped too hard, and I broke my toy. It just splintered into pieces as I finished. Can you tell me where I can buy another, and if I have to order it online, do they have overnight shipping?” “I’ll send you Sheila’s number.” “Thank you. Sorry for interrupting.” Gabriel pointed at Douglas. “And thank you for the advice.” “No sweat, big man.” As soon as Douglas and I were alone again, I asked the void, “How had he never tried playing with his own chest hair while masturbating? You think he would’ve stumbled over that one by accident.” Then it hit me as I got back into the bed, “Oh, he used to shave his chest! He had no hair to play with.” I wanted to start our passion back up, but Douglas turned to me and said, “He gripped his fleshlight so hard it splintered?!” “He’s been abusing that thing for weeks, and the pressure from the inside probably helped.” Douglas was having trouble with this concept. “He gripped his fleshlight so hard it splintered?!” “Yes, that’s what he said.” “I hope you don’t expect me to fuck you after that pronouncement. My penis is scared to come out and play.” “I can bolster his confidence,” I said, shoving my hand down his pants. 35 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Trippin Posted November 28, 2022 Share Posted November 28, 2022 When one thinks it cannot get any better, you come around with a new chapter (or two)! On a side note, it is becoming eerie how your story resembles mine. Now you even anticipated some plot developments I was still planning and haven't even written down yet! 4 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozymandias Posted November 28, 2022 Share Posted November 28, 2022 I love the characters’ personalities and the dynamics between them. But it’s still a completely mystery to me where this story ends up! Keep up the magnificent writing 6 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
mario2007 Posted November 28, 2022 Share Posted November 28, 2022 The anticipation in finding out what a total superman Gabriel is going to become is driving me crazy! 3 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
citizenies Posted November 29, 2022 Share Posted November 29, 2022 Love how things are progressing ~ Lots of time left for the trial and gabriel is greatly affected hmmm unexpected stuff again soon? 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
portamivia Posted November 30, 2022 Share Posted November 30, 2022 Now listen very closely, young man: I want these two to be fucking like rabbits before the end, is that clear?! I want my happy ending!! The world is already too dark not to give us that, TQuintA! 3 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Trippin Posted November 30, 2022 Share Posted November 30, 2022 2 minutes ago, portamivia said: Now listen very closely, young man: I want these two to be fucking like rabbits before the end, is that clear?! I want my happy ending!! The world is already too dark not to give us that, TQuintA! I'm constantly thinking "Kiss him already, you big hairy fool!" while reading 5 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted December 5, 2022 Author Share Posted December 5, 2022 Chapter 19 Thus began the new phase in Gabriel’s life. Between work, Douglas, and the changes in Gabriel’s schedule, my life returned pretty much to normal. Gabriel’s, though, was entirely different. For one, since he was no longer holding down a 9-5 job, he could use that time to work out, meaning Gabriel was often home waiting for me when I got there. For another, since he was home alone more often, he scheduled his masturbation around my schedule so I didn’t hear his cries of ecstasy anymore. For yet another, he took on a determination I’d never seen before. “This is my one chance, Auggie. My one chance to get as big as possible and live my dream as a bodybuilder. Once I’m off these pills, who knows how much of the muscle I’ll be able to maintain? There’s a local bodybuilding contest in six weeks—it’s major enough to get my pro card. Then, there’s an Olympia qualifier in Pittsburgh in13. Then, there’s Olympia a month after that. I’m cutting the deadlines razor thin, but especially since Johnny is helping me grease the wheels, I’ve got my target in sight.” “You want to win Olympia?” I asked, agog. “First timers never win,” he said dismissively. “I want to qualify out of nowhere, show up on stage huge, and scare the hell out of the vets.” Then, after a pause, he added, “But if I want to do that, I have to train to win. And I’m going to do it on Johnny’s dime.” Johnny came through with the money. Johnny came through in a big way. He even insisted on hiring Gabriel a coach to help him train. “If he wins Olympia,” Johnny said, “it’ll only help my company once we crack what’s causing Gabriel’s freakish growth. Hell, if he places we’ll sell millions.” The first few days they worked together, I rarely saw Gabriel’s coach, but I did see him a handful of times at the apartment. He was a gruff former bodybuilder in his 50s. He’d gotten a little soft around the middle, and he was nowhere big as he was at his peak (I Googled him), but he was still plenty impressive. His name was Hank, and he did not like me. “I don’t understand what you two even do together!” I heard Hank say. It was maybe the second or third day he was coaching Gabriel. They were in the living room; I was in my bedroom. They were unaware I could hear them. “Watch movies. Play poker. Hang out. Talk. Have dinner. Things like that.” “I don’t understand.” “You don’t understand friendship?” Gabriel sounded especially confused. “I’d understand if you were fuckin’ the kid,” Hank said, a little louder. “It’d weird me out a little, but I’d get it. A lot of the guys I coach have a pretty little thing on the side. A pretty little thing with tits, but I understand that men have needs. If you were fuckin’ the kid, I’d tell him to bend over and service you whenever you demanded like the twerp he is. It’d be his way of contributing. But he’s just a normal kid.” “He’s my best friend and roommate,” Gabriel responded, defending me. “And he’s the same age as me.” “I’d maybe understand if he was a fellow bodybuilder. Motivation, competitive edge, liftin’ buddy. I’d get that. But a skinny gay vegetarian, when you ain’t none of those things? Tell him to hit the bricks. He’s getting in your way.” “I can always hire a different coach,” Gabriel said. “Okay,” Hank said, acquiescing. “The kid stays.” When I told Gabriel that I’d overheard the conversation between him and Hank, he patted me on the cheek. “Don’t worry, buddy. His bark is much worse than his bite. Besides, he’s completely changed the way I work out. Apparently, I’ve been overtraining. He’s got me working out less time, but reaping more benefits. I wish I had him months ago.” As much as I bristled at Hank, I could see the positive changes he made in Gabriel. Gabriel went from laser-focused to heat-seeking missile. I’d gotten used to him waking up to an alarm clock religiously; now he was going to bed when an alarm went off, even if we were in the middle of a movie. And if I thought he’d been eating an inhuman amount before, I was in for a world of surprise from the sheer amount of food he would put away. Hunger was no longer his motivation to eat. “Hank says I have to hit my macros,” Gabriel explained through a mouthful of peanut butter. I nodded as though that sentence bore meaning. And the results were undeniable. In just two short weeks, Gabriel ballooned from an already gargantuan to floor-shaking. He was a beastly behemoth of a man. His arms and chest were so thick and swollen, they threatened every shirt he dared put on. Even though he was now wearing a lot more Lycra and stretch fabrics for the give, he looked fit to burst from everything he wore. And his legs. His legs! They were so thick that they fought each other for space when he was just standing there. And when he walked, they rolled around each other, forcing him to swagger with every step he took, flexing and quaking with each motion. And with his legs taking up so much space, his bulge was pushed front and center—and undeniable focal point of enlarged male anatomy beyond what us mere mortals possessed. Two weeks after Hank was hired, Gabriel tackled me at the front door, picked me up, and spun me around. His muscles were as hard as steel, and I could feel his ever-increasing chest hair prickle through his shirt. “Call Douglas. We’re going out.” He was grinning and over-eager. “Where are we going?” I asked, as he held me aloft. “I don’t care. Someplace fun where we can dance. Your favorite club.” “If we go to my favorite club, the guys will swarm around you.” “Whatever,” Gabriel said with carefree glee. “I just need to dance.” “My favorite club doesn’t open until 8. Isn’t that your bedtime?” “Hank gave me a one-night pass to stay up ‘til midnight.” He bounced me up and down in his arms. “C’mon! Get excited!” “Why are we so excited?” “I broke 300! I am more than 300 pounds of man, Auggie!” “I’ll call Douglas,” I said. Then I tapped his shoulder. “As soon as you put me down.” “Right,” Gabriel said, lowering me. “You weigh nothing, bud. You should start eating more.” “My weight is just fine,” I said and pulled out my phone. “You’re just a Herculean super-bodybuilder.” “Fair,” Gabriel said, flexing his arm. The sinews and veins danced as the bulge swelled and contracted. Gabriel and I met up with Douglas in the parking structure down the street from the club. Douglas and I were dressed in our normal date clothes—tight button downs and tighter jeans (Douglas left his top few buttons unbuttoned). Gabriel was dressed scandalously in black spandex—shirt and pants—that conformed to every bump and swell of his body. I could see all his abs through the shirt. The three of us arrived at the front door as soon as it opened, and there was already a line outside. “Just a warning,” I said. “The only people who get here this early are the regulars, the super desperate, and the over-18-under-21 crowd. In other words, the three demographics most likely to be drawn to you like magnets.” Gabriel inhaled deeply, swelling his chest. He then sucked in his waist, put his hands on his hips, and flared his lats, striking a pose reminiscent of Superman. “They can’t make me do anything I don’t want,” he chuckled, practically guffawing. When he saw that display, the bouncer didn’t even make us wait in line. Dancing was a blast, especially ricocheting back and forth between my big boyfriend and my even bigger best friend. I was in muscle heaven. Every move Gabriel made caused his muscles to twitch and flex; his bulk and bulges bounding and grooving to the music was hypnotic. Douglas was also going hot and heavy—sticking his tongue down my throat on the dance floor. It was the first time I’d even done anything so overtly sexual in front of Gabriel, but he didn’t seem to care. Or even notice. When we first started dancing, I did spy a few men gently approach Gabriel, but they flew away as quickly as they landed. Whatever his trick, it was working, so I wasn’t going to question it. After a half hour of dancing, I was hot and parched. “Let’s get drinks!” I said. “It’s on me,” Douglas said, whipping out his credit card. He said the following more as a question rather than a statement, “Light beer for me, vodka soda for Auggie, and for Gabriel…” “I don’t…” Gabriel started, but Douglas interrupted. “I was going to offer you a bottle of water, big fella.” Gabriel nodded appreciatively. Seconds later, Douglas came back and shared a wicked idea. “There’s a sign at the bar that says men over 10 inches drink free.” He pointed at Gabriel’s obscenely packed crotch. “What say you, Gabriel? Do you qualify for free drinks yet?” Gabriel looked like a deer caught in headlights. “That sign is always there. It’s a joke,” I said reassuringly. “Just pay for the drinks, Douglas.” “Roger,” Douglas said, making an about face. “How would they check?” Gabriel asked, loud enough for Douglas to hear. Douglas stopped dead in his tracks, then turned around. “Pardon?” “How would they check?” Gabriel repeated. “They’re not just going to take my word for it. How would they check?” “You’re over 10 inches?” “At my last measuring, 301 pounds, 10.1 inches,” Gabriel said. For a moment, the two of us just stared in awe. Then, Douglas spoke up. “Don’t fucking say those things if I can’t fuck you,” Douglas practically whimpered, staring at Gabriel’s immensity. “I ask again,” Gabriel re-directed, “how would they check? If they expect me to whip it out at the bar or want to post a picture of it somewhere public, we’re paying for drinks. But if, for instance, they took me into a back room or a bathroom stall, I say we go for it. Call their bluff.” “What?” I asked incredulously. “I fucking hate this thing,” Gabriel said. “It’s always in my way, it’s always hot and sweaty, and it’s unnecessarily heavy. If it can get us free drinks, it's about time it started pulling its not unsubstantial weight.” “You’d really show a stranger your cock?” I asked. “I do it all the time at Johnny’s research center,” Gabriel said. Then, a thought hit him. “Ooh! Pull out your phone. Johnny sends you those pervy videos. Would they accept that as evidence?” “He still sends those?” Douglas asked. “I don’t watch them,” I responded to Douglas. To Mason, I said, “If there’s a time stamp on the video, they might.” “They’d want to see it in the flesh,” Douglas said, extra emphasis on the word “flesh.” “You don’t put up a sign like that if you don’t want to see it in person.” “You two stay here,” Gabriel said. He walked over to the bar, got the bartender’s attention, and whispered into his ear. The bartender looked dubious, but beckoned Gabriel into the storage room by curling one finger repeatedly. About two minutes later, Gabriel came out of the storage room, adjusting the bulge in his pants—he was obviously and thickly erect. The bartender followed him, a tape measure in his hand and a smile on his face. Gabriel came back over to us with our drinks. “Drinks are on me the rest of the night,” he said, crowing a little bit. He pointed to his crotch. “Or rather, on him.” “It’s a real policy?” I asked, taking my vodka soda. “I’d’ve been back faster, but they made me get erect,” Gabriel said. “Can most guys get erections on demand? I’ve never had to coerce one before.” “Most guys cannot just get an erection on demand,” Douglas commented, “but they can give themselves a running start by picturing something sexy.” “Right. Right,” Gabriel said. “That makes sense.” He downed half his bottle of water in one swig and then adjusted himself again. “I hope this thing goes down on its own.” After another hour of dancing—Douglas and I both nicely buzzed from Gabriel’s largesse—Douglas came back from the bathroom, stood behind me, put both of his hands on my shoulders, and spoke directly into my ear. “There is this muscular hunk who saw us dancing. He wants me and him to spit roast you. Sounds hot. What do you think?” I turned to face Douglas and said, “I think we’re here to celebrate Gabriel who’s been getting us free drinks all night. I’m not abandoning my friend for a threesome.” “Just look at the guy before you say no,” Douglas said, pointing out the man who’d made the proposition. He was dark-haired, muscular, and had disproportionately large pecs. As soon as I saw him, the suggestion made perfect sense. “His name is Michael,” I said. “And he probably wanted a threesome with you and Gabriel.” “What do you say?” Douglas asked, undaunted. “I’ve already had him. He’s a disappointing top, so if you fuck him, make him bottom.” “Thanks for the heads up,” Douglas said, kissing me on the neck and heading back to the men’s room. “Where’s he going?” Gabriel asked me, a note of concern in his voice. “To fuck Michael in the bathroom,” I answered plainly. “Right now? Right here?” Gabriel asked, wringing his hands unconsciously. I looked over my shoulder and saw Douglas and Michael go into the bathroom together. “Right now,” I confirmed. “He’ll be back in about 15 minutes. 20 max.” “That won’t be so bad,” Gabriel said. I was confused by Gabriel’s worry, but decided it was concern on my behalf and dismissed it. True to my word, 20 minutes later, Douglas was back dancing with Gabriel and me. “What took you so long?” I asked. “I had to wash my hands,” he answered. “No further questions,” I responded with a giggle. At 11:30, I tapped on Gabriel’s shoulder. “If we don’t go now, you won’t get home in time for bed.” “Already?” Gabriel asked, genuinely disappointed. “March, mister!” I pointed to the exit. “Where’s he going?” Douglas asked. “Cinderella’s coach is about to turn back into a pumpkin,” I said. “Come on, let’s go. If Michael didn’t completely empty your tank, we can fuck around a little when we get back.” “If we’re not going to keep dancing, I think I’ll head home,” Douglas said. “I’ll walk back to your car with you, though.” We walked in pleasant silence until we got to my car, and the Douglas suggested, “We can go trawling for fun after I get out of work tomorrow.” I stood on my tiptoes and pulled his head down so I could kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t drive drunk, and keep your hands clean,” I said and joined Gabriel in his car. When I got in the front seat, Gabriel looked at me confused. “No Douglas?” “He’s homeward bound,” I said. I closed the door. “Did you have fun?” “So much,” Gabriel said. “Anybody hit on you?” “Dozens,” Gabriel said. “Especially the bartender.” “How’d you keep them off you?” Gabriel showed me his left hand. “Didn’t you notice? I’ve been wearing it since we got here.” At some point, he’d put on a wedding band. “When did you even get that?” “A few weeks ago,” he said, taking the ring off and putting it in his pocket. “When I had to start using a gym outside our building, a lot of strangers began hitting on me, and a lot of them blatantly offering sex. Bridget suggested I get a fake wedding ring. She has one too.” “And that works?” “Almost always. It also gives me cover for when I get one of those random erections at the gym. I figured a similar solution would work at a gay club.” I couldn’t help but smile. “You chased away guys at the club by telling them I’m your husband. I’m kind of flattered,” I admitted. Gabriel shook his head. “I told them Douglas was my husband.” “Not me?” I was a little hurt. “I love you, Auggie,” he said, tousling my hair, “but I’ve seen tea cozies more intimidating than you.” I thought about that. “No, no, I see where my error was. Douglas makes more sense.” I nodded. “Is that why you got nervous when Douglas went off to fuck Michael?” “Indeed, it is.” “Wait,” I said as an idea came to me. “Is this why Hank hates me? ‘Cause he thinks I’m screwing your husband?” “Why would he think that?” Gabriel asked, laughing. “He thinks I’m married to Bridget.” “What?” “Like I said, it was Bridget’s idea. She was sick of people at the gym hitting on her too, so we pretend to be married there. It’s mostly women who hit on me at the gym. Since Hank’s kind of always at the gym with me, he also thinks Bridget is my wife. I never specifically told him that lie, but everyone at the gym thinks Bridget and I are married. I only pretended Douglas was my husband tonight because a married straight man at a gay bar—that wouldn’t exactly drive anyone away. A married man dancing with his husband… that would.” I puzzled it out in my head. “Let me see if I understand this. From Hank’s point of view, you and Bridget are married, and I’m dating Bridget’s brother, but it’s you and me who live together while both Douglas and Bridget each live alone in their own apartments.” Gabriel mentally checked my math. “Yes.” “Then, he really doesn’t hate me. He’s genuinely confused by our living arrangements.” “I guess,” Gabriel said. “I feel a little better,” I said, exhaling. “Home?” “Home,” Gabriel said, pointing through the windshield. 25 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted December 5, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted December 5, 2022 Chapter 20 A few days later—closer to a week—when I came home from work, Gabriel was in a tizzy. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “I fucked up bad,” Gabriel answered, pacing. “Fucked up how?” “Douglas is going to kill me.” “Douglas? What?” I put my hands on Gabriel’s upper arms to stop him from pacing. “Sit down and give me the whole picture.” Gabriel sat at the dining room table, and I joined him. “Douglas is a trainer at my gym. I see him there a lot. Today, after my session with Hank, a guy came up to me in the locker room. He said his name was Teddy. Teddy told me that I should know that last night my husband was at a bar hitting on him pretty hard, saying he was in an open relationship, and that I should reel my man in.” “Teddy saw the three of us go out dancing,” I said, filling in a gap. “Yes, he did.” “That’s easy enough to clear up,” I reassured him. “Just tell him that you are in an open marriage. You are monogamous, but Douglas is allowed to have other partners.” “That might’ve worked if I thought of it,” Gabriel said, tapping his fingers against the table nervously. “But, at the gym, I’m married to Bridget, so I just vehemently denied being married to Douglas and said that Bridget is my wife.” “Great,” I said cheerfully. “That should clear it up too. You didn’t want gay men hitting on you at the club, so you pretended to be married to your wife’s brother.” “Oh, you keep interrupting,” Gabriel said nervously, his taps graduating to light slaps. “I suggested that Douglas just said he was married to me, accidentally implying he’s hopelessly in love with me.” I paused to make sure Gabriel was done, and then said, “Okay, that’s bad, but it’s not that bad. Just apologize to Douglas and clear anything up you have to the next time you’re at the gym.” “He’s going to get fired,” Gabriel moaned, hiding his eyes. “I’m guessing there’s more to this story, then.” Gabriel took in a sharp intake of breath to finish the story, when the door to our apartment burst open. "What the fuck did you say?" Douglas screamed as he charged into our apartment. “I’m sorry,” Gabriel said, standing up, his hands raised in a submissive posture. “It came out so wrong. I didn’t mean to say anything. You can hit me if you want.” “I’d break my hand, and you’d feel nothing,” Douglas said. “What did you tell Teddy?” “That you once tried to seduce me, that you’re always at my apartment, and that you tried to sleep with me even though I’m married to Bridget.” “Then you did call me a stalker,” Douglas fumed. “It’s all anyone was talking about at the gym today.” Gabriel was pleading a little. “The only flat-out lie I told was that I’m married to Bridget, and she’s the one who came up with that lie. Ask her yourself. Everything else I told Teddy was true, but it came out wrong because I was caught off-guard and nervous.” Douglas was having none of it. “The second you said that, half the people at the gym began talking about all the people, including clients, that I’ve fucked. I was a slut before I started fucking dudes. I didn’t realize how many people I’d slept with until they all started talking to each other.” “That does sound bad,” I said meekly. “It’s against the employee code of conduct to fuck a client,” Douglas fumed. “It’s grounds for termination.” “I’m so, so sorry.” Gabriel, in desperation, added, “You can hit me with a bat if you don’t want to punch me. I deserve it.” He ran into the kitchen and came back with a frying pan. “Or this,” he said, handing it to Douglas. Douglas lifted the frying pan, poised to strike, and Gabriel recoiled, closing his eyes and bracing for impact. I closed my eyes too, afraid of what was coming next. Then, I heard two sounds that made no sense: the sound of a frying pan being placed gently on a table, and the sound of Douglas laughing. When I opened my eyes, I saw Douglas using his phone to snap pictures of Gabriel recoiling. “That is your payback,” Douglas said. Gabriel relaxed his posture a little bit and opened his eyes. Douglas showed him the photos of him cowering. “You fuck with me again, I hit you for real.” He pat Gabriel on the shoulder. “We’re square now, big guy.” “What the hell?” I asked. “I got fired for fucking my clients,” Douglas said, “but I am the one who fucked my clients. That’s not Gabriel’s fault. However, getting fired weirdly did me a favor. When the boss threatened to axe me, all of my clients rushed to my defense. The handful I slept with insisted it was mutual and consensual. But the boss held his ground, so I announced I was going freelance. I already have a dozen clients.” “Are you a gigolo now?” Gabriel asked. “Get your mind out of the gutter, ace-boy. Freelance personal trainer. I get to set my own hours, pick my own clients, and make more money. All the people who stepped forward to defend me were ones who’d made significant progress, and they credited it to me. I’ve been freelance for only a few hours, and I’m already in high demand.” “They don’t care that you’re a stalker?” I asked. “Most of them didn’t believe it in the first place. The people still foaming at the mouth, I just talked them down. Once I explained that I had respectfully walked away when Gabriel told me he didn’t want to have sex with me, that calmed most all of them down. Then I explained that I was in an open relationship with his best friend and that Bridget was my sister, and that answered everyone else’s questions. Even Teddy’s. Then I explained that I’d been Gabriel’s personal trainer once upon a time, and that got me two new clients. People I haven’t even slept with.” “If no one thinks you’re stalking Gabriel,” I started, “then why did they still fire you?” “Because I fucked my clients, Auggie.” Douglas laughed a little. “That is an immutable fact.” “And you pretended to be angry…” I started, leadingly. Douglas finished the sentence, “To fuck with Gabriel. He got me fired. It happened to work out in my favor, but it really shouldn’t have.” Gabriel sat down, physically relieved. “And since we’re square again,” Douglas said, “I want a favor.” “Anything. It’s yours.” Gabriel was overly quick to agree. Douglas sat in the chair opposite Gabriel and leaned in. “I want to see your most recent video.” “House Rule #5!” Gabriel and I said at the exact same time. “It’s on the fridge,” I added. “I don’t watch those anymore.” “But, as I learned last week,” Douglas said, swiveling to look at me, “you still get them. I was under the mistaken impression that Johnny stopped sending those after our last phone call where I proved you had a boyfriend.” “Yeah, I get them, but I delete them,” I assured him. “The last one he watched was on my insistence before we had the House Rules,” Gabriel clarified. “I know that Auggie wouldn’t watch them.” He paused, then meekly added, “On some level.” Then, in his normal tone of voice, he continued, “But they must be tempting, or there wouldn’t be a House Rule about it. And so I can’t stop thinking about them. It’s like a bee buzzing in my head. I’ve just got to see one for myself.” “You really want to see one? Gabriel asked. “Yes, but only with your permission. Auggie’d never forgive me if I didn’t have your permission.” Gabriel sighed deeply. “Fine. You’ve already seen me naked. A second time won’t hurt.” “What?” I asked, shocked. Gabriel continued, “On the condition that you watch it with Auggie. That way, if either one of you gets turned on, the other one is right there to handle it.” “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. “Gabriel, I don’t want to watch the video.” I was just starting to make some real progress getting over Gabriel. Why would he insist on this? “Your boyfriend wants to, I owe him one, and you’ve proven to me you can watch one and keep yourself under control. He hasn’t.” He turned to Douglas. “This is a one-time deal because I got you fired. House Rule #5 goes back into full effect the second that video’s over.” “Understood,” Douglas assented. “Shake on it,” Gabriel insisted, putting out his hand. They shook, and I found myself being led into my bedroom by Douglas. It was only five minutes after I got home from work. I hadn’t even taken off my shoes yet, and I’d already been on a roller coaster ending with my boyfriend and me going to watch a naked video of my best friend sent to me by my oldest brother. I started the video, and the interview portion began. Unlike every other one of these videos I’d seen, Gabriel looked relaxed and calm in this one. He was in a button-down shirt, only the first three buttons were undone to allow his ample pecs room to breathe. Swirls of dense chest hair pooled out of his shirt, and his shoulders were so broad that they threatened to pull his shirt open wider. His arms were crossed casually in front of him, his bulging biceps on the verge of shredding his sleeves, and pushed firmly into his pecs, the muscles vying for the same space. Especially compared to the anemic, underfed interviewer, Gabriel looked gigantic, overfilling his clothes and his seat. There was a smile on his face, bringing a touch of softness and beauty to his otherwise ruggedly masculine face. His beard shined under the fluorescent lights. He was breathtaking. The interviewer must have noticed it too because, instead of his stock questions, he asked, “Why are you in such a good mood today?” “Everything’s going great. Work’s not a stress anymore, money’s not a stress anymore, and my libido’s not a stress anymore.” “Are you no longer masturbating excessively, then?” “Fuck am I masturbating excessively. I’m up to four times a day. Sometimes a fifth to help me sleep.” He handed them three paper bags. “Here’s my sample from this morning. It wouldn’t all fit in two cups.” When the interviewer reached over to grab it, Gabriel tightened his grip, saying, “You promise me my output will go down once I’m off the pills.” The interviewer said, “Everyone else’s has. You won’t likely go down to your levels before the study, but it should drop considerably.” “Good,” Gabriel said, releasing the paper bags. The interviewer accepted the bags, then asked, “Any other changes?” Leaning back into his relaxed, crossed-arm posture, Gabriel said, “I found this product online—a chemical epilator trans women swear by. I’m going to see if that’ll help with the shaving. I probably won’t use it on my chest, though, because the chest hair helps with the excessive masturbating. I’ve also noticed my nipples are larger. Kind of bulgy? Puffy? They’re very sensitive. They help with the masturbation too.” “And your testicles. Any increased hair growth there?” “Probably,” Gabriel said with a shrug. The shrug caused his round, bulging shoulders to pull at his shirt, flashing even more chest hair tantalizingly. “I’ve stopped checking.” “Any other changes?” the interviewer asked. “I’m eating more than before, but not because I’m hungry. I’ve been stuffed full for the last two weeks on my trainer’s orders.” “Any more problems with your increased pheromones?” “I’ve caught people sniffing my belongings at the gym, towels and the like. Mostly women. Guys in the locker room kind of freeze when I lift my arms up or take a shower. Some still give me that ‘I want to eat you’ look.” “Are your testicles still vibrating?” “Only on the nights I need the fifth go-around.” They asked if he was taking the pills as directed, and he nodded. They asked if he’d made any significant changes to his lifestyle. He shook his head no, but added “You have it on record that I’m training for a bodybuilding show with a professional trainer now, right?” The interviewer nodded, and then the video then cut abruptly to the soundless white-walled room. Gabriel was absurdly huge. Photoshopped muscle morph huge. His chest, the part of his body that always struck me first in these videos, hung over his torso like a cliff. They were round, swollen, pert and full, yet covered in striation and rippling with power, clearly massive with muscular brawn. The jungle of chest hair foresting them made them seem even bigger, even more delectable. His nipples were indeed more prominent, but his pecs were getting so big that his nipples had migrated further south. His shoulders were devastatingly broad. He looked too wide across for human anatomy—his shoulders were more like architectural features, decorative rounded domes of muscle atop either side of his chest. Adding to this absurd illusion, his neck was a balustrade of thick brawn, so wide and so present his neck was its own distinct mass of power. His biceps and lats broadened him even further. His lats were no longer just pushing his arms aside; they were holding them vaguely aloft. I saw Gabriel’s arms routinely, so I know just how hard, heavy, and huge they are, but on the screen, unencumbered by the camouflage of clothes and fresh form a workout, his arms looked monstrous. Large, distended, hyper-present veins snaked down his bicep, scaling the mountain, a clean split between the muscles somehow visible even relaxed and unflexed. Those veins continued down his bulging forearms, thicker than a normal man’s bicep. His whole arm was closer in scale to a leg than an arm—a bodybuilder’s leg at that. Augmenting his arms’ dizzying brawn, the triceps swooped out the other way, further than his biceps did, corded with muscle, crinkled like a croissant. His upper half was made seemingly more massive by his insignificant, wasp waist. His waist was so drawn in that I would have no idea how his upper half stayed upright if it weren’t for those abs. His abs had hardened and blossomed into an angry washboard. The skin adhered to each muscle, revealing a tight network of veins, and his Adonis belt and each individual ab muscle emerged like mountains among valleys. Those abs were so impressive, they looked bulletproof. Gabriel in the video turned around, and his gigantic, immaculate ass eclipsed our vision. It was impressively round, yet ridged with muscle fibers and self-evidently mighty enough to demolish all who opposed it. If his lats seemed broad from the front, they looked like wings from the back, strong enough to soar him into the stratosphere. His entire back bulged with meat and brawn and beef, a terrain of muscular awe. And if his waist looked impossibly tiny from the front, it looked nearly non-existent from the back, as if his back muscles were free floating over his ass muscles, the two tethered together by the slenderest kite string. As he turned back around, I saw his legs. No, that word was insufficient. I’d seen legs of all shapes and sizes, and I knew Gabriel’s had to be big because they stretched any pair of pants he dared wear to their breaking point, but these two columns of steely power were too thick and dense and vital to be called mere mortal legs. His quads were obviously and noticeably thicker than his waist, especially when he taunted the camera operator by flexing them, ballooning them out into mesmerizing steely girders, fed by thick veins, and ribboned and cabled with muscle fibers. His calves similarly beggared belief. They were large, and diamond-hard, flaring out below his knees as impressively as his thighs did above. Then, front and center were his cock and balls. A thick, impressive bush surrounded his genitals, his balls now beyond hairy as they hang low and impressively in each sack. He had bull balls now—there was no other way to say it. And his cock was huge, even soft. His cock looked thicker and longer soft than most men’s do hard. I could only fathom what he looked like fully erect, dripping pre. But I shook that thought away. At the end of the video, the chyron read: Subject 3-18 Weight: 141.1 kg Body Fat: 9.4% Flaccid State: 15.9 cm Erect State: 26.9 cm Douglas elbowed me and asked, “What is that in American numbers?” “311 pounds, 6 and a quarter inches flaccid, 10.6 inches erect.” “Holy fuck!” Gabriel said, an odd note of concern in his voice. I’d expected him to be turned on, to dive on me and start making mad, passionate love. Instead, he started biting his thumbnail. “You okay?” I asked. “Fine,” he said, but he obviously wasn’t fine. “I’m just shocked by this video. I see him all the time, but he wears clothes that disguise it, I guess. Or he just seems so much bigger on screen.” “The camera adds ten pounds,” I joked. “To his cock?” Douglas said, the sentence rising up at the end, becoming slightly shrill. “Seeing it written out in numbers like that. 311? You sure?" I pulled up Google and showed him the math. “That’s 70 pounds more than me.” He pointed to the screen accusatorily. “I’m fucking big, I’m taller than him, and he outweighs me by 70 pounds.” Douglas focused on Gabriel’s cock on the computer screen. “He’s bigger than me everywhere.” He bit his thumbnail harder. “Fuck.” “Why did you really want to see this video?” I asked, quietly and calmly, no judgment. I closed my laptop. “You seem to have gotten no joy out of it.” “I wanted to put it out of my head. I don’t like the idea that you’re secretly beating off to videos of your best friend.” He shook his head vigorously. “I don’t like it.” “Let’s say I am,” I said, still calmly and quietly. I put my had on his shoulder and reassured, “I’m not.” I squeezed him lovingly. “But let’s say I am. So what? You masturbate. You watch porn.” “But I don’t live with a hung, muscular porn star.” “Do you think I’m fucking Gabriel?” I asked, deeply confused. “Of course not.” Douglas’s tone was pained and conflicted. “I mean, not really. Gabriel’s practically a eunuch. If eunuchs could somehow be hung. But admit it, you’d be weird about it too if I lived with a buff, generously endowed straight guy who worked as a stripper or a lesbian cam girl with big tits who liked to walk around naked.” “Even if you lived with a gorgeous rent boy, no I wouldn’t. We’re in an open relationship.” I knew what was bothering Douglas, but I don’t think Douglas did. After a second, I added, “If we were monogamous, maybe then I’d feel weird. Jealous even.” A look of clarity went over Douglas’s face. A peace came over him. Then, he nodded emphatically, so emphatically that his shoulders moved with it. “Okay. I’m convinced. Polyamory isn’t for me. I haven’t enjoyed the last few fucks I’ve had with people who aren’t you. I felt guilty after having sex with Michael. That’s why I washed my hands, Auggie. I felt dirty. And the thought of you even kissing another guy shreds my guts. And you just named that feeling. Jealousy. I’m jealous of Gabriel. Which makes no fucking sense because anything sexual between the two of you is a non-starter.” He looked me squarely in the eyes. “Let’s be monogamous.” “Do you mean that?” “Yes. I’ll commit to you completely. No other men or women in my romantic life. Can you commit to me? No other men in your romantic life?” “Sure. I wasn’t seeing anyone else anyways.” “It’s settled. Monogamous boyfriends.” From behind my door, I heard Gabriel shout, “Yes!” “You were eavesdropping?” I asked. He opened the door. “Only until I heard how this turned out. I expected it would end with you two rutting like animals, but I had some doubts and fears. This is a far better outcome.” “Close the door, Gabriel,” Douglas said. “Why?” “Auggie and I have some rutting to do.” 38 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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