People Pleaser

People Pleaser

By Clark Wayne

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Every day he stalked into the gym. He’s tall. He must be six-seven. You can’t miss him; he towers above everyone. His shoulders are broad, broader than any I’ve seen. He’s handsome; thick dark hair that’s wavy and it curls out from under the edge of his ball cap when he wears one. His jaw is wide and square with a slight cleft in his chin. He has a strong, roman nose. I would say he’s in his mid to late twenties and his body…his body is a fucking work of art. He looks as if he was sculpted out of granite by the gods or a superhero drawn straight from the pages of a Superman comic. Plate-like pecs, boulder-like shoulders and biceps like baseballs. He’s a big guy but not overly so, more like a fitness model and not a bodybuilder. He’s ripped, every muscle strand visible through the form-fitting workout gear he’s sporting. His ass is spectacular; bulbous, muscular and protrudes from the arch of his lower back like a shelf.

Another thing that was noticeable up until the last few days was that he never looked up unless he was looking in the mirror. His shoulders were slightly hunched which made him look like he was suffering from low self-esteem. There’s no way that could be true, though. He’s too perfect. He was quiet and I’ve never saw him speak to anyone. From his demeaner I could tell he was painfully, almost excruciatingly shy. I bet it kills him to be so shy and yet so visible to everyone around him. To be that beautiful, to have people stare at him wherever he goes must be awful for him.

But the last two weeks I’ve caught him stealing glances in the mirror. Stealing glances at ME. Every day it happened more and more each time I saw him. His glances are quick, fleeting like he’s afraid to get caught. Now I’m thinking, hoping, he might be gay. He must know I am. I don’t advertise it, but I don’t hide it either. Well, if he is gay, this makes everything more interesting. I’d love to get this muscular jock in my bed even if it’s just for one night.

Everything changed when one day at the gym I finished a bottle of water during my workout. Within seconds he appeared with a new bottle, handed it to me, nodded and walked away without saying a word. This meant he had been watching me. For the first time I caught a glimpse of emerald green eyes. I stood there like an idiot holding a bottle of water in my hand, spellbound as I watched that ass walk away. I thought about saying thanks, but it was just such an odd encounter. I half think if I would have said anything, his head would have exploded.

The next day was a grueling leg-day at the gym. The only thing that made it bearable was seeing my emerald-eyed beauty sneaking glances at me while I was doing squats. I made sure to flex my ass, show off the assets to my new admirer. It’s the least I could do for him since he showed off that body on a daily basis for me. I could only imagine what he could do with my body with all that size and power. I was picky when it came to the guys I had sex with. I like muscular, masculine men. I prefer to top and I hadn’t bottomed in years, but I could tell he wanted to turn my ass inside out by the way he ogled my ass during squats. A guy that size was a 100% top for sure and for a guy like him, I’d be more than ok with being his bitch.

I finished my workout, grabbed my stuff and headed out to my truck. I fiddled trying to dig my key-fob out of my gym bag when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around to find myself staring into the chest of my emerald admirer. Before I can say anything, he handed me a business card. I take it.

BREWER PAXTON, PhD
Grand University
Professor of Kinesiology & Director of
Sports Rehabilitation

Wow, over achiever. I flip it over and his email and cell information are on the back. I look back up at him. Both hands are down, folded in front of him and his lips are tight, his head looking down, but his eyes tilted up at me. He looked like a puppy dog.

We both stood in silence for what seemed like forever. His size was intimidating which made me assume I should wait until he spoke first, but he too was silent and he looked petrified. He looked submissive which threw me off. Maybe he was just one of those gentle giants who once he got you in the bed turned into a raging power top.

“Um…,” he mumbled before he nodded to the card in my hand. “My number.” He cleared his throat. He looked around nervously and then looked back down at me, gave one nod of his head like he had just satisfied a requirement. “Um…yeah,” he mumbled as if to signal he had nothing else to say and that I should know now what to do with the card. Then he turned and skulked off back to the gym.

I must have looked stupid standing in the parking lot staring down at a card with my mouth open. I looked over at him one more time as he opened the door to the gym and entered. My mouth became dry and my dick became hard at just the mere thought of what this all meant. The fucking man of my dreams just gave me his number. The strong silent type was a turn on. Big, strong and quiet but I bet he could fuck for hours. I got into my truck and looked down at the card again. I tossed it on the passenger seat and smiled. I thought I would make him wait, play the game, to show him I wasn’t too eager even though I was. I had to get into the mindset that I was soon going to be bottoming a lot for this hunk.

I looked at my watch and realized I was running late. I was on my way to hook up with a fuck buddy of mine and I didn’t want to be late. His wife was out of town and we had the whole house to ourselves for the evening. I don’t think I was ever going to be able to concentrate fully on fucking my buddy when Brewer was floating around in my brain.

Later that evening after I spent a couple of hours fucking a couple loads into my “straight” married fuck buddy, I went home, showered and sat staring at Brewer’s card. Did I call or did I text? I remembered how shy he was so texting was probably the right answer. I just needed to figure out what to say. And even though I should be fucked out, I really wanted to get a piece of this man. I decided to fuck it and just text him.

I texted nervously: BREWER?

After a few seconds he texted back.

Nathan?

YEAH HOW DID YOU KNOW?

I just did.

NO I MEAN HOW DID YOU KNOW MY NAME?

Oh. I asked around. Was that ok?

YEAH JUST CURIOUS

Ok. If it’s not I’m sorry

NO NO ITS COOL

There was a long pause before I texted again.

SO THANKS FOR YOUR NUMBER

Welcome

Another long pause but nothing more. Why were the hot ones always the odd ones? I took the initiative.

SO DID YOU WANT TO MEET UP OR SOMETHING?

Yes

That’s it? Wow, this guy is weird. Short and sweet.

OK SO WHERE?

Where do you want to go?

DOESN’T MATTER

Oh. I’ll go wherever you want to go

And he’s indecisive. Great.

COFFEE SHOP ACROSS FROM THE GYM?

Ok

I waited for him to initiate more questions about when, but I got nothing.

WHEN?

asap

Dude must be really horny.

LOL OK. I GUESS I CAN BE THERE IN 15 MIN

I’ll be there

SEE YOU THERE

I arrived 15 minutes later and sure enough, he was waiting at a table in the back corner. He saw me walk in and stood up. He was wearing a very snug navy-blue t-shirt but then any t-shirt would be snug on him. His legs were encased in tight faded denim and he was sans ball cap, so I got to see his thick jet-black hair that I wanted to immediately run my fingers through. I also noticed all the women in the shop were looking at him.

“Hey, Brewer” I greeted him.

“Hi, Nathan,” he replied, taking my hand in a firm handshake. I looked up at him and I felt like a dwarf. I was right. He had to be at least six-seven. I’m only five-ten so to look up at him was more than intimidating. His hand was twice the size of mine, had to be.

“Where would you like to sit?” he asked me eagerly. I honestly didn’t care but he was being very attentive.

I grabbed a chair and sat down. “This table’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” he asked. “We can sit by the window or where ever you want.”

I laughed. “Yeah, Brewer, I’m sure.”

“Sorry,” he said as he sat down. “I’m just nervous.”

My eyes must have popped out of my head. “Nervous? About what?”

He looked at me very embarrassed. “Um…you?” Was that a question or a statement?

“Me? Why would YOU be nervous about ME?”

He was quiet and fidgety. “Um…,” he mumbled. “You… make me… um…nervous.”

I flinched a bit and sat back in my chair looking at him strangely.

“Dude, that’s ridiculous…” I started before he interrupted me. “Every woman and some men in this place have their eyes glued to you. You’re kind of an intimidating presence.”

“Coffee? Do you want um… some coffee?” he asked quickly changing the subject. Does he not know he’s fucking walking sex?

I was taken aback by the quick distraction. “Oh, yeah. I’ll go order.”

“No! I’ll get it!” he exclaimed too eagerly before stopping himself. “I mean, um, I’ll get it. My…my treat.”

“Ok, ok,” I say with my palms up hoping he would slow down. “I’ll take a decaf coffee.”

“Got it. Decaf coffee,” he repeated the order back like he was afraid he would forget.

Then he hastily got up and walked to the bar. I was mesmerized by his body. His t-shirt molded to his huge traps and I could see every knot of muscle in his upper back. But that ass. That ass was perfect. It looked so powerful like it could crush rocks with on squeeze. God, I hope he’ll let me eat it out before he fucks me. He was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. I was horny as fuck for his cock.

He returned with the coffee and packets of sugar and a carafe of milk. “Would you like anything else, cream, sugar? Anything?” he asked overly concerned.

“No. I take it black,” I said with a smile as he sat across from me. He stared at me with those intense green eyes. Even as he drank his coffee his eyes never left my face. It was a tad bit uncomfortable and it made for awkward silence. I knew he was shy but apparently not a great conversationalist. I had to take the lead which I had no problem doing being a Type-A, control freak myself.

“So, Brewer, you’re a kinesiologist?” I asked. He looked at me like a deer in the headlights. He set his coffee down and swallowed.

“Um…yeah?” he stated oddly. Once again, was that a question or an answer.

I laughed. “Yeah? Your card says you are, dude.”

He paused again, his brain visibly working to find words. “I am. Yes. PhD.”

“Uh huh. Ok.” I say with raised eyebrows. It’s a good thing he’s pretty. “So, do you…like it?”

He stared at me for a beat. “Yes. I do. It’s very satisfying.”

Wow, ok. Maybe good looks aren’t the only things important in a hot guy like I always thought. He may be a big zero. But then, I just wanted to get laid, so his personality wasn’t of huge importance.

“Brewer, is everything ok?”

“Um…yes,” he replied.

Oh, god. What have I gotten myself into? If he’s this socially awkward, what was he like sexually?

I clapped my hands together and put down on the table. It was just time to stop beating around the bush. “I can see conversation isn’t your forte. Let’s just cut to the chase. When are we going to fuck?” I asked bluntly.

He set down his coffee and looked around the room hoping no one was in ear shot of my blunt question. I almost regretted saying it and so forcefully. Maybe I pissed him off.

“Um…uh,” he stammered with a hard swallow. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Dude, I was ready weeks ago,” I said enthusiastically. “Let’s fuck.”

“Ok. I live a half block away. That is, if you want to go to my place,” he asked again overly attentive. Why was he being so submissive. “We don’t have to.”

“Yeah, man. I don’t care. Let’s fuck, already,” I stated inpatiently, standing up and pushing in my chair.

He stood at warp speed and headed toward the door. I followed him and finally caught up with his long-legged strides. He was motivated alright. Damn, that ass in those skin-tight jeans was fucking prime. He moved with such grace but also with power. It was different than the usual slumpy shoulders and skulking that he usually did. Maybe he just found new confidence.

We entered his condo, and I was pleasantly surprised. Being a prof must pay well. It was an immaculate condo with a view of the city. It was sparse but decorated very masculine. He turned to me after he shut the door. His breathing was heavy like he was going to explode. He stood frozen and stared at me as if waiting for marching orders.

“Bedroom?” I asked.

He nodded and I followed him into a huge master suite with a king-sized bed. I rushed him, tore off his shirt, feeling up his smooth inflated pecs and cobblestone abs. I pulled his head down to me and planted my lips on his. The kiss was feverish and passionate. I pulled away and stripped off my shirt and attacked him again. His hands were all over me. They were warm and they roamed over my back muscles and caressed my abs. He unbuttoned my jeans and dropped to his knees where he whipped down my underwear and wasted no time engulfing my hard cock.

Whoa! I looked down shocked that this large masculine man was so eager to suck my cock. I knew I didn’t have to worry about his skills in the bedroom anymore. He was an expert cocksucker. The best I’d ever had. He grabbed onto my muscular ass and pulled my cock deep into his throat. He didn’t gag or cough. He swallowed and acted like it was the best thing he’d ever had in his mouth. Then, unexpectantly, he took my hands and set them on top of his head. Naturally, I gripped his hair and instinct took over. If he was going to allow me to face-fuck him, then I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. I laced my fingers into his thick wavy hair, grabbed hold and rammed his head down hard onto my cock. He hummed his approval giving me the permission I needed to destroy his throat. I pulled his head so hard into my crotch that I should have broken his nose or at least cut off his air supply. His mouth was plugged, and his nose was smashed into my abdomen. At one point I didn’t bother yanking him back and forth and I just sank my cock down his throat, pushed in and held his head still, enjoying the feeling of his tight throat massaging my cock. He struggled a bit after a while as I’m sure he couldn’t breathe but I didn’t care. Seeing the power that I had over this masculine, beefy power-house was more exhilarating than anything I’d ever felt.

His eyes stared up at me the whole time I was using his throat. His eyes were red, watery with tears. I didn’t care. I could tell it’s what he wanted. I stared down into his eyes and watched his shoulders flex and strain. I couldn’t hold it back. I clasped his head tighter and unloaded into his throat. He closed his eyes, and I could hear him moan around my cock. He jacked my cock trying to get every drop like it was water and he hadn’t had a drink in months. He licked the head and then down the entire length. He was ravenous. He had cum dripping down his chin, globs of it on the corners of his mouth. He didn’t even jack his own huge cock at any time. It was like he didn’t care if he got off as long as I did. Maybe I had this guy all wrong. I just assumed with his size and demeanor he was a top. I guess not.

I pulled him up to full height and grabbed his head and pulled him down for a kiss. I licked my cum off his lips and fed it back to him which he loved. A cum-whore. Nice!

I pushed him back onto the bed and immediately his legs went up in the air. He grabbed behind his knees and pulled back to his chest raising his ass high. That made my cock so hard it hurt. His ass was baby smooth, and his hole was too. He was a true cock slut. He knew how guys like me appreciated a clean, smooth work surface.

I delved head-first into that spectacular ass. I licked, sucked, chewed on that perfect hole and reveled in hearing his deep voice moan and beg for more. I took a finger and slid it in which made his head thrash back and forth. I fingered him for a few minutes working my way from one to three fingers. He was tight like a vise. I spit on that hole and pushed it in with my finger. I put as much spit as I could on that hole because I wasn’t going to stop for lube. He let go of his knees and his legs raised straight above until his heels were pointed to the ceiling and they widened. Every muscle fiber in his legs popped. His hamstrings were so fucking muscular. Fuck it! He was ready and I was willing.

I mounted him, aimed my cock at his slut hole and sank down slowly and from what I could tell from his hissing and groaning, quite painfully. His face had a look of determination on it. He was determined to take it anyway I wanted to. My root hit his ass. I gave him an evil grin as I pulled out and using my bodyweight, slammed back in. He grabbed his heels and pulled his legs farther out and back. He wanted it all. He wanted it deep and he wanted it rough. What a submissive position. I’m going to destroy him.

I continued to power-slam that bulbous muscular ass and the more I did, the more he loved it. I smacked his hamstrings as I helped keep his massive legs up by grabbing his ankles and pushing back.

The room echoed with grunts, groans, growling and the slapping of abdomen to ass. I usually am full of fuck-talk but both of us were too engrossed in each other. The eye contact was hypnotic, his eyes begging for more, rougher, domineering fucking. He was so good-looking that I couldn’t look away.

I obliged. I fucked him for a good twenty-minutes, edging myself inside his ass. I would get close to cumming and then I would stop, not allowing myself the pleasure of coating the walls of his hole with my DNA. As soon as the feeling passed, I would rev up and continue the onslaught to the point when seeing this fucking gorgeously built man submit himself to me was too much to take and I unloaded the largest load I’ve ever shot, into his granite ass. He let go of his legs and pulled me down for a make-out session as I continued to cum multiple times inside his slutty, cummy hole. I looked down and he had shot his own load all over his chest and face without even touching himself. He was panting, his massive chest heaving as he wrapped his heavy legs around my waist. I attacked his neck, his shoulders and his mouth. It was by far the best sex I had ever had in my thirty years of life.

I stayed inside him, his tree-trunk legs wrapped around my waist and his muscular arms wrapped around my neck, gentle kisses on his lips. There was no way I was going to lose this erection as long as it was inside this god. His eyes glowed with ecstasy and satisfaction. The way he looked at me with complete servitude and obedience made me think I could fucking marry this man or at least have a fuck-ton of sex.

“I’m not done,” I stated quietly.

I slowly moved in and out making slow romantic love while I planted kisses on his lips and neck. His legs were heavy on my waist and his arms felt like pythons around my neck, holding me in place.

I blew out a puff of oxygen as if I had been under water and was coming up for a breath of air.

“Brewer,” I whispered. “Damn.”

His eyes still latched on to mine as if pleading for approval. “Was I ok?” he asked meekly.

I gave a short burst of laughter. “Yeah, Brewer. You were ok.”

He clenched his hole around my cock. “Are you sure? I can change if you don’t like it.”

I looked down at his perfect square-jawed face. “Don’t change a fucking thing.”

“Ok,” he responded.

I moved around inside him feeling the thick sticky goo I had just left in his hole. He stared into my eyes and moaned. He must have a prostate the size of a watermelon or something.

“Brewer, you’re full of fucking surprises.”

“Why?”

“Honestly, when I came up here with you, I had assumed you were going to fuck ME.”

He answered quickly, “I’m sorry I gave that impression. Forgive me.”

“No, no, Brewer. It’s not a bad thing. You’re just the fucking epitome of a stereotypical alpha top. It surprised me, that’s all. Hell, it surprised me you were even gay.”

“Yeah…I get that a lot. Every time I have sex,” he said in a breathy tone as I continued to slowly rut into his butt.

“A lot, huh? Every time? How often is ‘a lot’?”

He stretched out his legs and flexed them, probably working out a cramp before wrapping them back around my waist. I could see he was contemplating how to respond. Would I approve of his answer was what he was thinking.

He licked his lips and said, “I…I like to get fucked,” was all he said expecting me to know what he meant.

“No shit, genius,” I laughed. “You’re really fucking good at it too.”

“Um…I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said quietly.

“Have you, now? You’ve never topped?” I asked.

“NO!” he said loudly and quickly. “I…I mean…no,” he stated calmly. “I…I don’t want to do that. It wouldn’t…satisfy me.”

“It would have satisfied me!” I chuckled.

“Are you upset I didn’t fuck you? I’m sorry if you are disappointed,” he said again with pleading eyes.

“Brewer. I’m not upset with you.”

“Because if you are, I’d understand if you wanted to punish me.”

I flinched. Wow, he was really damaged or something. I was shocked and yet, turned on. The fact that Superman here would want me to discipline him kept me hard and made me fuck him a little bit harder but not much, I didn’t want to cum again just yet. I was enjoying watching his handsome face every time I thrust back inside. His emerald eyes widening and slightly rolling back in ecstasy.

“Punish you?” I asked.

“Well, yeah,” he replied confusion on his face. “I would never intentionally make you upset, but I know that there are standards I have to adhere to and if I don’t live up to them than you’ll have to discipline me,” he said as a matter of fact.

I was quiet, contemplating what he just told me and what it all meant. This man was a walking contradiction; the picture of rugged masculinity, fitness model good looks, powerfully strong body yet he was really a submissive, kind of pathetic little bitch. All he wanted to do was please. And I was the one he wanted to please. The more I thought about it, the more intrigued I became. A real man who was a real pussy boy. I would be the envy of every gay man and straight woman if was seen with this Hercules of a man. I like attention. I like being seen with pretty people. I like fucking hot tail. This was turning out to be a very telling evening. It may say more about me that I’m more narcissistic than I thought. And I have a dark, dominate side that I never knew I had until tonight. I loved this power.

“Why me?” I asked before I kissed him on the cheek. I did honestly want to know. I know I’m very attractive, possess a very desirable physique and usually could get any guy I wanted but looking at him, honestly, I felt a little out of his league.

“You…you are…my…,” he stuttered and paused. “I don’t know how to explain it,” he said with a sigh that I wasn’t sure if it was out of frustration or I had just hit his prostate again.

“Try.”

“It’s all I’ve ever known, servitude. When I saw you, I just knew that you were the one.”

I smiled. “What makes me…the one?”

“Everything,” he replied simply.

I fucked him a little faster and his grunts matched my thrusts.

“Oh, Nathan,” he moaned. “Fuck.”

“God, you have the most amazing ass, Brewer. So, fucking amazing.” I fucked harder and watched his eyes water.

“Thank you, Sir,” he panted.

Sir? Holy shit, that sent a spike of electricity through my spine. I felt like a puppeteer pulling the strings of very hot, very built marionette.

“I’m the one, Brewer? I’m the one who you want to serve?” I whispered seductively.

He nodded his head and bit his lip.

“You’re going to do everything I say? Anything I want, Brewer?”

He nodded again and clenched his hole. That sent me into a frenzy.

“Are you a slut, Brewer?” I asked with a slightly demeaning tone. “Don’t lie.”

He nodded his head immediately.

“Yeah? You’re just a big, beefy pussy boy in a man’s body. Aren’t you, Brewer? You a fucking pussy boy?”

He squealed inside his mouth. His perfect white teeth were clenched. I slammed into him in short hard thrusts. His legs splayed open to get the maximum amount of my cock into his ass.

“That’s pretty fucking pathetic, Brewer,” I emphasized what I said with a hard jolt forward. “You’re a fucking fraud, you pussy boy.” He continued to stare into my eyes agreeing silently. “You look like a real man. Act like a real man. Talk like a real man. But you’re nothing but a fucking fraud. We expect you to fuck us, but you can’t. You’re too much of a cum-hungry cock-whore who’s only purpose is to drain cock into your gut.”

I reeled back, took a deep breath, lunged forward and howled as I unleashed a second load into this beautiful bitch’s ass. I just keep pushing out cum and he kept clenching his hole. His handsome face was red and sweaty. His thick hair plastered to his forehead. Veins popping out on his forehead and throat as he, once again, exploded his load without touching himself. I slowed down and came to a stop. I now knew what made him tick. I won the fucking lottery and now I was going to spend the money. Seeing him pleased was almost as hot as being pleased. I felt a surge of power, as if I had gained superpowers. I knew I could do as I pleased with Brewer and he wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.

I pulled out of him with a sloppy squelching plop. I looked down at him and leaned down to kiss him. But when I got close enough to feel his hot breath, I pulled back. He opened his eyes disappointed he couldn’t touch my lips.

“You’re pathetic,” I sneered. I rolled off of him and lay beside him. I wanted to see how far I could take this. How much degradation he could take because I wanted to find out if it really did turn him on.

“I know,” he confirmed quietly. I closed my eyes as a wave of euphoria washed over me. I never knew I had a dark side. I could be a dick sometimes, but I didn’t know I could be an asshole. And I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to show him I liked him this way. I loved to see this six-foot-seven, athletic, muscular built god grovel and beg. I could get used to this. I put my hand between his legs and inserted my finger inside him. It was warm and my cum was leaking out. I wanted him to feel vulnerable and what better way than to finger him like he had a cunt while I asked him questions.

“You slut around, don’t you? This shy act is just that, isn’t it? An act? You play all tall, dark and mysterious to lure guys like me into breeding your pussy ass?”

“I…I…don’t,” he stammered.

“Jesus Christ, you stupid faggot! Spit it out! Fuck!” I yelled at him hoping it would make him even more submissive.

He took a deep breath and clenched his hole again before answering, “Sorry. I don’t date that much because I’m too shy so it’s usually just random hookups. It’s easy when you look like I do. I can go online and not have to interact verbally. I can just show up, get fucked and leave,” he explained.

“But you have dated?” I asked.

“Not so much dated, but owned,” he answered.

This was getting better and better every second. I curled my finger and scratched at his prostate.

“I see. You want me to own you, Brewer?”

“Yes, Sir,” he responded with out hesitation.

I smiled to myself. I looked over at his hard, smooth, muscular body. His ten-inch cock still erect resting on his abs. His hand traveling up and down his torso, feeling himself up. He knew he was perfect, but he almost treated his superior genetics like it was a curse.

“I’ve never owned anybody, Brewer,” I said. “But you make it easy to want to.”

“Yes, Sir. I’m glad I can do that for you.”

“Go get me a water,” I commanded. I pulled my finger out of him.

He jumped out of bed and hurried into his kitchen and was back in just a few seconds. I took the bottle and chugged it down with a burp at the finish. I tossed the empty bottle at him. He caught it and athletically free-throwed it into the trash from across the room. That was hot.