Chapter 1: A little show
Jake got out of the cab, slightly stretching his tall 6’2 frame. He had just flown in from Liverpool to Barcelona, taken a train, and then a cab to a midsize town by the sea. He was here for a four-week holiday job in a hotel that was open only during the summer months.
He had just celebrated his 26th birthday and finished his maths degree. Every day after Uni, Jake swam at the pool around the corner from his place. He wasn’t a professional swimmer but loved it like nothing else in his life. The daily exercise had given him a swimmer’s body: broad shoulders sat on top of a defined torso. From his slender waist grew endlessly long, muscly legs.
As he was standing in front of the cab, he was wearing worn-out Chucks, tiny vintage rugby shorts, and a cropped black tank top. His undersized clothes made him look even more like a giant – and he loved showing off his imposing body like that.
His blond, wavy hair crashed in unruly waves over his large eyes and a set of dark, bushy eyebrows. His skin was smooth, and he looked young and new to the world. And yet his square jaw and strong Roman nose lend something sharper and more mature to his features. Like someone at the edge of growing into his full manhood.
The hotel was a beautiful white-washed mid-century building, four stories tall with large windows and balconies facing the sea, that stretched out directly in front of the hotel. It looked quite posh, for lack of a better word. He had read reviews of the hotel and nearly all of them had been raving, praising the staff that went above and beyond the please the customers. Last year, one guy had written: “They really want to make sure that you are having the best time. Even if it means really quite hard work for them. 10 out of 10. ;) Will be back next year.” Jake had found the smiley odd, but didn’t give it another thought. All the other reviews had been normal and warm. It all seemed fine to him; he had concluded.
The hotel wasn’t listed on any of the booking sites, and it specifically catered to single people, which suited Jake, as he didn’t want to be surrounded by screaming kids for four weeks. His job interview had been with the owner: a Spanish guy in his early 50s, named Andrés. He had asked him more questions about his personal life than about professional qualifications and had waved off questions about specific tasks with a smile: “Don’t worry. It’s all easy. You’ll manage the bar and the pool area. And do some odd jobs here and there. Nothing that requires a degree. Not your math degree anyway. And I can already see that you’ll be perfect.”
After he had told an Italian guy, who was manning the reception, that he had arrived, the owner came to greet him. Andrés grabbed Jake’s hand with both of his. A firm handshake. He then showed Jake to his room in the staff quarters at the back of the hotel: “This is your base for the next for weeks, make yourself comfortable. And if there’s anything you need, just let me know or ask one of your colleagues. It’s a lively bunch this year. You’ll enjoy it. Work starts tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of the day.” And with that, he was off.
After Jake had unpacked his stuff and moved some of the furniture in the small room to make it cozier, he went into the bathroom to take a long shower. When he felt like he had finally washed off all the sweat and grime from traveling, he walked out of the bath, took the large towel, and dried himself in front of the large mirror in the middle of the room.
He loved his body. And he loved how easy it was for him to change it. He had added gym sessions to his swimming regime over the last couple of months, and when he flexed his arms now, they became alive with muscle. His chest had grown almost instantly so that all his T-shirts now stretched tightly over bulging, rock-hard pecs. Jake turned around. His bum was as pale as a sheet of paper but perfectly round and tight. It had always looked great in his swimming trunks, but lately, with his sessions in the gym, it had grown bigger so that his trunks were having a hard time keeping all of it in. He was pure marble with only a slight trail of hair from his belly button to his crotch.
It was a different story in the front. Jake had always been uncomfortable about his cock. His five inches weren’t very tiny – but not very big either. And on his body, only a massive dick looked alright, he often thought. He sometimes glanced over to some of the other guys in the showers who proudly showed off the swinging logs between their legs.
But he had learned to deal with it: He had started to trim his thick, soft pubes to make his dick look bigger. And he knew how to please the girls with his experienced fingers and his soft searching tongue. He was probably a better lover than most big-dicked guys, simply because he had to be more inventive, more attentive to their needs. And girls loved him for that, even recommended him to each other during drunken nights out: “He went down on me for halve an hour last week! Forget fucking. I can come just by looking at him when he spreads himself out down there between my legs.”
A couple of months ago, he even bought a cock sheath. It was a kind of hollow rubber dildo that you slipped over your own dick to make it longer or girthier – or both. He had asked the girl that he was seeing at the time whether she was up for trying it out. Afterward, she had said that it didn’t make a big difference to her. But he had felt powerful when he had looked down and seen how his enhanced dick pushed inside of her, how it slowly opened her up. He had brought her to massive orgasms many times before, but he had only now filled her out the way she wanted to be filled out, he secretly felt.
The thought of this experience made his cock twitch. He tossed the towel aside and grabbed his dick. With his other hand, he was groping his pecs, then stroking his hard, flat stomach. He wondered whether he would have lots of sex during his time here, whether there would be single girls on the team. His sex drive had been crazy recently. As he started to jack off, he looked at his body in the mirror, at the way the tension was rolling over all over his body through his muscles. He stood in front of the mirror, legs proudly apart, and it made him look like a powerful, dominating machine, built to perform. He came with a long groan, splashing a huge, dripping load on the mirror, all over his own image.
He fell exhaustedly onto the bed and dabbed the fresh sweat from his body with the towel. When he turned his head, his curls rolled over lazily to the side. It was then that he looked through the open window to the other side of the courtyard – just catching sight of somebody’s silhouette at a window. After a short moment, the shadowy figure moved aside, and the curtains were slowly closed. Jake was unsure of what that person would have been able to see,e but felt that he didn’t care much. Nobody knew him here. And he had worked hard for this body. No shame in showing it off a bit.
His thoughts turned to how he got here in the first place. He had desperately needed a job to tide him over until he figured out his next steps. A friend from Uni had recommended the job to him. “It’s quite full on. Or can be. But I think you can take care of yourself. Anyway, they would love you there. It’s not very well paid per se. But there are lots of special jobs here and there that you can do for some of the guests. And that brings in quite some extra cash. But don’t worry… I think the opportunities will probably be flying in your face.” He had patted him on the shoulder and wished him good luck.
With that, Jake drifted off into a long afternoon nap, lying naked on his bed.
