TQuintA Posted October 17, 2022 Share Posted October 17, 2022 Author’s note: This story feels like a bit of a risk for me. It is a muscle growth story, but it’s unlike any I’ve written for this site. I know that most of the stories I publish on this site have an emphasis on character, theme, and plot, but this story has even more of a focus on those elements. Also, it’s more of a slow burn than any of my other stories, and my stories already are quite slow burns (by design). In fact, these aspects of the story were so unignorable to me that I was very close to removing the muscle growth aspects of the story and working it into a novel that I would try to publish elsewhere. Ultimately, though, I decided the muscle growth aspects of this story were inextricable and un-excisable, so I let the work stand as it is. At the same time, it felt unfair not to give the reader a head’s up. I will continue to update Weird, but Sweet and this for as long as there’s an audience for both. TL;DR: if you’re looking for a quick wank, try another story. If you’re looking for a story with some erotic elements, read on. 8 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
TQuintA Posted October 17, 2022 Author Share Posted October 17, 2022 Chapter 1 There was only one thing wrong with Gabriel. Otherwise, he was perfect. He was gorgeous, obviously. A hair over six feet tall (easily seven or eight inches taller than me), athletic, movie star good looks, intensely brown eyes that sparkled, thick and wavy black hair, prominent cheek bones, a lantern jaw, always freshly shaved, broad shoulders, tight waist, round, pert ass… He was gorgeous. When we first met, he was already a buff 185, and it was among his goals to get bigger. And his personality? Everything I could ask for. He was outgoing and friendly, had an infectious laugh, compassionate and caring, confident without being arrogant, willing to take sound advice, adventurous, and ambitious. He was equally happy watching a mindless kung fu movie in our pjs or getting dressed up to the nines and going out dancing. We met as freshmen in college. We were both 18, soon to turn 19—we shared the same dorm room as freshmen together at a college just outside Pittsburgh in 2002. I don’t know what functionary or algorithm assigned us as roommates, but I worship at their feet. He came into our room, smiled beautifully, pointed at me, and asked, “August?” “Auggie,” I corrected. “Gabe?” I asked, offering my hand. “Gabriel,” he corrected. At the time, I figured he had to have that name because he looked like an angel. We shook hands, and I was trying to think of what to say next, when he saw my Bruce Lee poster. “No way,” he said, running over to look at it. “I brought this same poster. He’s my favorite actor. What are the odds?” The rest was history. We were fast friends and hung out all the time. Sometimes, he kind of felt like an older brother. Which was odd when I think about it. I actually have two older brothers, and hanging out with neither of them was this fun. I was close with my eldest brother Johnny. He looks an awful lot like me: short, fair-haired, and scrawny. That’s where the similarities end; he’s also a science-obsessed romantic and a full nine years older than me. Our friendship is conducted almost entirely over the phone, but we’re friends. Norm (the middle brother) took more after our dad than our mom; he’s a bossy wannabe guitarist whose day job is public accountant. I don’t spend much time with Norm. Gabriel was nothing like either of them, but he still had the big brother vibe somehow. The feeling I got from Gabriel was different in other ways, too. For one, I’m not attracted to either of my older brothers, and Gabriel is the most frequent visitor to my wet dreams. For another, Gabriel and I are the same age, our birthdays only a few days apart. Maybe Gabriel felt this way because I just have so much family. My family was huge—parents still married, two brothers, all four grandparents still living, a dozen aunts and uncles, scores of cousins. I needed a flowchart at family reunions. Gabriel was an only child raised by a single mother. His only aunt lives the childless life of a bon vivant in France, and his grandparents died when he was five. Whatever the reason, he gave off this feeling of comfort and familiarity that made me feel safe and secure. Maybe it was because of how different we were. Gabriel was the straight-laced sort. He got up at 6 every morning, he worked out religiously, he always did his homework, he’d never had a drink, he always finished his vegetables, he kept his side of the room neat and tidy, and he followed all the rules. As far as I could tell, his worst habit was that, when he was alone or it was just the two of us in the dorm room, he walked around in his underwear, as if he was allergic to shirts and pants. Granted, I did not mind because his chest (also always shaved), but I did find it odd how quickly he stripped to his boxers the second we were alone. Still, not wearing clothes isn’t exactly a vice, especially since he always kept his privates covered. If it weren’t for the fact that he routinely swore, I’d swear he was a goody two-shoes. His squareness was one of his best traits because he was honest and fair, which made for a great roommate and a great friend. I, on the other hand, am not afraid to color outside the lines. I am this short, pale, fair-haired vegetarian, so people never see it coming, but I can be a hellcat when the situation calls for it and have a mean, jealous streak I’m fully aware of but none too fond of. I never did anything dangerous or foolhardy, but I wasn’t above “questionable study habits,” I had a well-worn fake ID, and I lived life a little loudly—at least, in comparison to Gabriel. With that instant rapport we had, Gabriel and I rubbed off on each other in the best ways. He got me into working out—just enough to keep my twink bod tight, not serious lifting like him. I got him into vegetarian cuisine—just enough to boost his fitness goals, not a full-on veggie like me. He got me into motorcycles, I got him into poker. He helped me pass calculus, I helped him pass World Lit. We were perfectly matched. We did practically everything together and stayed roommates all four years. No one was surprised when we moved in together after we graduated. We were both originally from the area, we’d both gotten jobs in the city, and so we figured, why not? He was my dream man. Oh, right, the one thing wrong with him. He is completely, entirely, sexually uninterested in me. 27 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted October 17, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted October 17, 2022 Chapter 2 When we first moved in together, I just assumed Gabriel was a straight guy. All freshman year, the girls at the gym drooled over him, and he spent a lot of time talking with this tall glamazon named Bridget. Or, as I unflatteringly called her in my fits of pique, Bitch-it. Practically every girl he met threw herself at Gabriel, but Bridget got his singular attention. She had long blond hair, giant breasts, and an ass that once had me question my homosexuality. She was always hanging off him like he was a jungle gym. They had three classes together freshman year, and they often “studied” in our room alone. She flirted with him so hard during their study sessions that I would leave the room. I had no clue what they did when they were alone. Bridget would sit on his lap at lunch, laugh loudly at his jokes, and tickle him whenever she got the chance. To make matters worse, she was really intelligent, told fascinating stories, and was genuinely nice to me. God, I hated Bitch-it. One day, it was just Bridget and me at the lunch table because Gabriel had gone off to get more food. She pulled me in like she was about to spill a secret. I leaned in, and she whispered, “Does Gabriel have a girlfriend?” That threw me. “Aren’t you his girlfriend?” I asked. “God, I wish,” she said. “He’s a great guy, but all we ever do is hang out or study. I’ve flirted with him so hard I’ve nearly sprained something, but he doesn’t reciprocate. He’s never made a move, or kissed me, or even asked me out. He only hugs me if I initiate. And he does it in this awkward, uncomfortable way that, in my experience, means the guy has a serious girlfriend and doesn’t want to cheat on her—or even give off the faintest hint that he might consider cheating on her. You’re his roommate. You must’ve met her.” “No dice. I honestly thought you were his girlfriend.” “Damn,” she said, ineffectually slamming her hand on the table. “Wait,” she said suddenly. “I’m being so closed-minded. It’s the new millennium. Does he have a boyfriend?” I repeated, “I thought you were his girlfriend.” Bridget eyed me up and down suspiciously. “Auggie, are you his boyfriend?” “God, I wish,” I echoed. “I don’t know. You’re cute and sweet and petit. And he really likes you.” She sighed, unconvinced. “Well, if I can’t have him, I hope you get him.” Then she kissed me on the cheek, and I felt horrible about all the times I called her Bitch-it. “What were you two talking about?” Gabriel said as he came back to the table. “Weren’t your ears burning?” she purred as she sat in his lap, booped his nose, and nibbled on his earlobe. “Please don’t do that,” he said, then took a bite from his salad. “I’m trying to eat.” She cast a glance at me that said something like, “Rejected again.” After weeks—two and a half months, really—of being rebuffed by Gabriel, Bridget eventually stopped hanging out with us. Since he had never made a move on Bridget freshman year, I began to consider the possibility Gabriel might be gay after all. He spent a lot of his free time at the gym, so he was probably not into twinks, though. I was the only twink he spent any time with, and lord knows he wasn’t into me. Judging by most of the people I saw around him, Gabriel liked beefy hunks like himself. I mean, I’m into guys, and that’s my type, so I can’t really judge him. Almost immediately after I had that realization, I noticed him spending a lot of time both in and out of the gym with this guy named Douglas. Or, as I unflatteringly called him in my fits of pique, Dick-less. Douglas was a muscular hunk who looked like he stepped off the stage of a bodybuilding contest—he was even bigger than Gabriel, and easily two inches taller than him. Douglas was older than us—likely a senior. He was blond with a tan, smiled with blindingly white teeth, and had thick legs that could crush a lucky man to death. Whenever Gabriel was at the gym, Dick-less was right there next to him. Douglas was always feeling Gabriel up, buying him drinks from the juice bar, and flexing and posing for him. And Gabriel seemed to want to impress him. Gabriel bulked up—five pounds in one month—and began wearing more revealing clothing. Outside of the gym, I could catch them taking long jogs together, and they were often alone with each other in the dorm room Gabriel and I shared. They were always all cheerful and friendly when I came into the room, but, guessing by how often I found them shirtless together, I bet they’d prefer I wasn’t there. Of course a guy like Dick-less was Gabriel’s boyfriend. Soon after, Douglas started having lunch with us. To make matters worse, he thanked me every time Gabriel had a vegetarian lunch, he frequently complimented me in a non-condescending way, and he was a really good conversationalist. God, I hated Dick-less. One day, it was just Douglas and me at the lunch table because Gabriel had gone off to get more food. Douglas beckoned me closer with his meaty paw. “Auggie, does Gabriel have a girlfriend?” That was confusing. “I thought you were his boyfriend.” “Boyfriend? Me? What? No. I’m straight. Besides, I’m his trainer. I work at this school. I’d get fired if I dated a student. My boss doesn’t even approve of me being friends with you and Gabriel. I’m helping him bulk up and get bigger because he’d gotten as big as he could on his own. You thought I was his boyfriend?” “You’re always touching him and bringing him drinks and flexing…” it hit me. “You were correcting his form, getting him to drink more protein, and trying to motivate him.” I then felt horrible for all the times I called him Dick-less. “Yeah. Gabriel’s into men?” Douglas seemed genuinely shocked, placing undue and bizarre emphasis on Gabriel’s name. Then, he turned to me, asking, “Are you his boyfriend?” “Douglas, I thought you were his boyfriend,” I reminded him. “If you’re straight, why do you care if he has a girlfriend?” “I want to set him up with my sister. Gabriel’s exactly her type. But if he’s gay…” “I have no confirmation that he’s gay,” I told him truthfully. “Go for it.” When Gabriel returned to the table, Douglas almost immediately asked, “Are you cool with me setting you up on a blind date?” “What?” Gabriel looked completely thrown. “If it’s not weird for you, I’d like to introduce you to my sister. She’s a student here, and I think she’d go crazy for you.” Douglas took out his phone and pulled up a picture. It was a selfie of him with Bridget. Bridget, apparently, was his sister. I patted Douglas on the arm consolingly. “Bridget is a no-go,” I said. “How’d you know her name is Bridget?” Douglas asked. “He’s already met and rejected her,” I informed him. “It’s true,” Gabriel confirmed and then took a mouthful of salmon. “Well, then, I’m glad I asked before I introduced you two.” While I still saw Gabriel with Douglas at the gym, Douglas stopped hanging out with us immediately after that lunch. I suspected that macho, straight Douglas didn’t want to hang out with two gay guys, but Gabriel had another explanation. “I think it’s his way of showing solidarity with his sister,” he said. “I respect that.” After the whole thing with Douglas, Gabriel began spending a lot more time with me the second half of sophomore year. We already hung out frequently, but after Douglas removed himself from the picture, Gabriel spent all his free time outside the gym with me. All of it. It seemed like we were doing something every night: movies, poker, what have you. And often, it was just the two of us, which meant Gabriel was practically naked. I kinda got the impression that Gabriel might be into me after all, but too afraid to make the first move. I felt emboldened. After I had spent over a year pining for him, I finally decided to take my shot. We’d just come home from a night of dinner and dancing. It was midnight when we got back to the dorm, so I expected Gabriel to go right to sleep (he was normally fast asleep by 10). Instead, we changed into our pjs and were watching some kung fu film on his laptop. I forget which one because I wasn’t actually watching it. I was watching him. He was, as always, freshly shaved, and his skin still shined from the lotion, and he smelled of warm lather. Some sweat still clung to his buff chest, which expanded each time he inhaled. His arms looked inviting and strong, beautifully curved with rock hard muscle I longed to touch. No movie stood a chance. We were sitting on his bed—like we often did—and he had his left arm stretched out over a pillow. So, as if his bicep were magnetized, I leaned in to the crook of his arm and cuddled up next to him. He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me in tight. Seeing that as a green light, I put my hand on his chest. He let me. I started stroking his chest. He rubbed my stomach with his left hand. Emboldened, I craned up to kiss him on the corner of the mouth. He looked down at me confused. “What was that for?” “Just felt like kissing you,” I responded sweetly. “Please don’t,” he said, and went back to the movie. But he kept his arm around me, continued to rub my stomach, and even asked me why I’d stopped rubbing his chest. “It felt nice,” he said. Mixed messages are all I ever got from Gabriel. 31 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Popular Post TQuintA Posted October 17, 2022 Author Popular Post Share Posted October 17, 2022 Chapter 3 The day after the kiss that went nowhere, I couldn’t find him all day. I actually thought he was avoiding me or had even moved out, but come dinner time, he was at our usual table, and we walked home together. He acted like nothing had happened. For the rest of the year, he never mentioned the kiss even once. Gabriel was a mystery to me, one I was intent on cracking. I brought him up just about every time I talked with my brother Johnny on the phone, all my friends at the LGBT center, strangers at the bus stop, any person who would let me kvetch. I had to figure him out. Flirting with me, Douglas, and Bridget? Rejecting both me and Bridget? I’d tried being respectful from a distance, I’d tried initiating romance, but neither had yielded me answers. And so, early in junior year, I moved on to blunt questions. And every time I asked, he found a way to give a non-answer. One time I tried, “Gabriel, what was your first kiss like?” “Odd question, Auggie. The first Kiss I can remember I got trick-or-treating when I was 3. I prefer ice cream to candy, but only on cheat days.” The next day I tried, “What’s your type?” “My blood type is B-positive. Why do you care?” Finally, I just went with, “Seriously, are you gay?” “No, I’m Gabriel. Seriously. I don’t like nicknames. You know that.” Then, as always, he changed the subject blithely. And then, as soon as I was alone, I’d go to a gay club to troll for sex. If Grindr had existed when I was in college, I would’ve been on it constantly. As singularly focused as I’d been on Gabriel for the past three years, a man has needs, and I’d had plenty of stress relief with strangers. Some in my own dorm room. But none of them meant anything, and some of them I didn’t even know their names. Gabriel didn’t react one way or another to the stream of strange men leaving our room. He barely acknowledged their existence. Gabriel remained a mystery, but I had it down to two explanations: he was either straight and oblivious, or he would come out to me when he was ready. Then, it happened. Deep into junior year, I saw him in the LGBT center one day. I was in there once a week or so just to chat with friends and find potential fuckbuddies, but I’d never seen Gabriel in there before. He didn’t see me—he was too busy looking at the floor. Then, just before he exited, he hugged the student rep (a red-headed otter named Lewis that I’d fucked freshman year), and the hug lasted a little too long. As soon as Gabriel was out of the line of sight, I went up to the rep’s desk. “Lewis, what was Gabriel doing in here?” “Auggie, you know I can’t answer that question. Students have the right to privacy here.” “Not even if I bribed you? Or offered sexual favors in exchange?” “Not even then.” Lewis looked left, then right, then leaned over the desk to whisper in my ear. “But my shift is about to end, and my roommate’s gone for the weekend—if you want to fuck around a bit.” “Yeah, okay,” I said. The mere possibility that Gabriel might be gay or bi had me ready to pop. Now that I’d seen him in the LGBT center, I thought, surely, it was only a matter of days before Gabriel confided in me. Months passed. We were now almost done with junior year—I decided to do the reasonable thing. I got him drunk off his ass. It took me a bit to talk him into it. I had to use all my logic and peer pressure. I pointed out that we were 21 now, so it wasn’t breaking any laws. Getting drunk was a typical college experience, and he should try it. I went to bars a lot, so it would be another thing we could to do together. Just try it once. If he didn’t like it, he never had to drink again. By this point, he had bulked into over 200 taut, ripped muscular pounds, so I knew it would be a challenge to get him drunk because of his body mass. However, he’d never had a drink in his life, so I thought he’d be a comparative lightweight for a man his size. Turns out, he has what I can only assume is a naturally high tolerance. It took nine beers and eight shots of vodka, but I got him so drunk that he could barely walk home from the bar. When we got back to our room, as usual, he immediately began stripping. I hadn’t even closed the door yet. In the time it took me to close and lock it, he had gotten completely naked. Not even any underwear. That was new. His ass was round but striated, his legs thick and mighty, and his whole torso was shaved clean as his face. His nipples were prominent and tantalizing, his abs as delicious as ever. I was a little disappointed to see he had a small dick and balls, but I figured he might be a grower. Besides, I’d seen him cram a whole protein bar into his mouth when he was late for class, so I wasn’t really thinking of anything past a blow job. “Okay, time for bed,” he announced. “Let me catch up,” I said, taking off my shirt. Gabriel turned around and looked utterly confused, especially once my pants fell to the floor. “Auggie, why are you naked?” he slurred. “Why are you naked?” “I’m hot.” “Yeah, you are,” I responded, eyeing him up and down. “No, I mean, I’m hot in temperature. I’m warm. Drinking made me warm-hot. So hot. Is it hot in here?” He walked over to our window and opened it. “So, by ‘time for bed,’ you meant…?” He looked impassibly lost. “I meant ‘time for bed.’ It’s time for sleeping. Night time is time for sleeping. Drinking made me warm-hot and bed-sleepy. Night night, Auggie.” He moved away from the window back to his bed. “You don’t want to sleep with me?” “I’m too hot to share a bed.” He crawled into bed and repeated, “Night night.” “I didn’t think we’d actually sleep.” Without taking his head off the pillow, Gabriel asked, “Did drinking make you horny? You weirdo. Go the clubs or something. Night night.” Five seconds later, Gabriel was snoring loudly. The day after I got him drunk, for the first time in my three years of knowing him, Gabriel slept until noon. When he finally woke up, he looked a mess. His eyes were red and swollen, there was stubble on his face and chest, and he couldn’t even sit up without holding his head in pain. He was essentially stuck in bed until his hangover diminished. I’d been up for hours—it had been just another Friday night for me. When I got up at 9, he was still naked and uncovered in bed, and he was shivering slightly. So, I threw a blanket over him, closed our window, and went out for supplies. Specifically, I’d brought a new bottle of aspirin, several bottles of water, and some food back to our room. When Gabriel woke at noon, I handed him the aspirin and went to our mini-fridge to get him three cold bottles of water. He looked at me as though I was his god. “Thank you, Auggie,” he said before downing the first bottle of water in one swallow. Then he downed half of a second. “I’m never getting drunk again.” He finished the second bottle and opened the third. I nuked the veggie burrito I’d bought for him, and after a few bites, he finally started to look like himself again. Then, he threw off his covers and saw that he was still completely naked. “Why am I naked?” he asked. There was the mildest note of panic in his voice. I threw him a pair of boxers from his dresser drawer. “You got overheated last night and stripped naked.” He pulled the boxers on and then covered himself with the blanket again. Then, he looked at me with terror in his eyes and announced, “I’m freaking the fuck out, so I have to ask.” “Shoot.” His voice got very quiet, and he avoided eye contact. “Did you make advances on me last night?” “I did, but you rebuffed me thoroughly. You called me a horny weirdo, so I let you sleep.” Gabriel physically relaxed and sighed. “Thank god. I knew I could trust you.” “Would it have been so repulsive if something had happened between us?” “Yes, oh god, yes.” Gabriel grew pale and held his head. “You’re disgusted by me,” I accused. “No, not that.” He shook his head again, part to say no, part from hangover pain. “Then what?” Gabriel groaned and said, “My headache is too big for this conversation.” “You can just tell me you’re straight, Gabriel. I have other straight friends.” “I’m definitely not straight,” Gabriel said bluntly. “So, bi, but more into girls?” Gabriel shook his head, still cradled in his hands. “So, you’re gay, but not into me?” He dropped his hands and looked at me. “I’m ace, dammit. Asexual.” It felt like an arrow had run me through the chest. I’d been rejected before, but this hit me like a truck. It felt like he was saying it just to hurt my feelings. Gabriel hurt me? I could hurt him right back. “That’s not a real thing. That’s just a thing ugly people say to make themselves feel special and less lonely. You’re not ugly, so there’s no need to lie to me.” I immediately regretted saying that. He was just being honest, not attacking me, and I repaid him with venom. Gabriel looked at me, wounded. “Most of the time, you’re a sweet little kitten, but you can be a mean fucking bitch. You know that, right?” “I know that.” Fuck. I was going to hate myself for saying that. “I’m sorry. You rejected me, and I lashed out. Sorry. I didn’t mean a word of it. Sorry.” “I know you didn’t mean it, or I’d be leaving the room right now.” He took some more bites out of the burrito silently. Then, between bites, he pointed at me and scolded, “You get exactly one of those outbursts.” Then, he fell silent again. He slowly and silently ate his burrito. Silently. For at least ten minutes, he just sat silently eating. In silence. The silence in the room began expanding and freezing into a solid. I couldn’t stand it, but I didn’t know what to say, so I stood there helplessly for what felt like forever. Eventually, I managed, “Ace, huh?” He nodded. “Yup. All of my friends in high school—it felt like overnight—started talking about sex and dating, and two of them even came out. And every last one of them—gay, straight, or otherwise—started coupling up. My friends only wanted to score some ass or go out with their girlfriends. They excluded me by accident or on purpose over and over again until I had no friends left. It felt like everyone around me was an alien. But I knew I was actually the alien. An alien in a human suit. At best, a broken human. “I’ve spent my whole life expecting some switch in my head to flip. That, one day, I’d find someone attractive, and I’d go for it. But it hasn’t happened. Because my switch is broken, or I’m an alien. So, when I got to college, I tried to… What’s the word… Manifest it—will it into existence, force it even. Make myself be attracted like a human person. I tried to manifest it with Bridget. I know people find her attractive, and she was super into me. But that went nowhere. I tried to manifest it with Douglas. I thought he was hitting on me, and I objectively know he’s handsome, but I never felt anything. That would’ve backfired even if he wasn’t straight. I tried to manifest it with you, too. Why you stuck around after I wouldn’t let you kiss me, I will never know.” “I stuck around because we’re friends,” I said, sheepishly. “A good one too as long as you keep that fucking mean streak under control.” Gabriel continued, “A couple months ago, I went to the LGBT center to figure out what the fuck is wrong with me. And I learned about asexuality. They gave me a book. I read it cover to cover. And the things I learned…I was so relieved. Turns out, I’m a human after all.” Quietly, I repeated, “Ace, huh?” “Probably aromantic too. I’m still working through that one. If this means we can’t be roommates senior year, I get it.” “Why would this mean we can’t be roommates?” Gabriel finished his burrito and licked his thumb. “Because you’re in love with me.” “Am not, you fucking narcissist.” “Please, I’m ace, not an idiot. I see the way you look at me.” As if to accentuate his point, he cocked an eyebrow, smoldered with his intense brown eyes, stuck out his chest, and ran his hands down his abs, stopping at his boxers. My eyes followed his hands the whole journey. In a taunting voice, he added, “See, you’re totally in love with me.” I scrunched up my face and defiantly said, “I’ll get over you.” “You better,” he added, getting out of bed to get another bottle of water. “We can be roommates next year,” I said. Excitedly, he spun around, dropped his unopened bottle of water, and grabbed me in a bear hug and twirled me around in a circle so fast my feet left the ground. “Really?” he asked, the relief and joy in his voice palpable. The mood had changed so suddenly that I didn’t know if his hug or tone shift was more of a shock. Between the two of them, I was going to get whiplash. Gabriel put me down, but the hug continued. “Fuck yeah! I thought when I finally came out you’d abandon me or run far, far away like everyone else has, even the ones who tried to stay my friends. That’s why I put off telling you for so long.” Gabriel’s chest pressing against me, his big arms wrapping around me, his might lifting me effortlessly off the floor—I could feel my dick waking up. “If we’re going to stay roommates,” I said, patting his arm, “you should probably stop hugging me while you’re practically naked. At least for the time being. And maybe wear clothes while we’re alone." “Right,” Gabriel said, backing away. “Good notes. I’ll put a shirt on.” Then, he grabbed his head and teetered for a second. “Also, I shouldn’t have done that with a hangover.” 41 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
portamivia Posted October 17, 2022 Share Posted October 17, 2022 Loving this! Nice different idea… 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
BeheMorph Posted October 17, 2022 Share Posted October 17, 2022 Wow, a second new story from you. You’re spoiling us aren’t you lol. I’m particularly intrigued by this one. I’m really interested in how it’s going to develop. I’m glad you decided to keep the muscle growth in and I’m looking forward to it but I’m happy to wait. I love your style and you’re definitely one of my favourite writers. 3 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
citizenies Posted October 17, 2022 Share Posted October 17, 2022 Sweet start ~ 2 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Wrestlejock646 Posted October 18, 2022 Share Posted October 18, 2022 That was awesome and I'm hooked on both new stories. This one already seems special and I can't wait for more! I really love a great slow!!! 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
arpeejay Posted October 18, 2022 Share Posted October 18, 2022 Two in one week?! Not sure what I did to deserve the Favor of the Story Gods but I am NOT knocking it!! 2 1 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Ozymandias Posted October 18, 2022 Share Posted October 18, 2022 Loving this story so far! 2 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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