The kiss of the bodybuilder

In high school, whether I liked it or not, I had to play baseball, football and hockey. My name was on a list and I reluctantly joined the team. I would have preferred to do exercises in the gym to keep my body trimmed. We were three or four classmates who stayed after school to do weights. Mark, Edward, Maurice and I thought that pumping iron would enhance our bicep, abdominal, chest and thigh muscles. I also hoped that it would keep my butt firm.

After high school, my gym friends and I took different directions. But since we stilled lived in Toronto, we agreed to meet at a fitness club two or three times a week. By the age of 20, we had become hot bodybuilders, I say “hot” because I’m gay and I enjoy worshiping a man’s muscles. I’m still in the closet and I think my gym mates are all straight. Mark, Edward and Maurice never made a homophobic remark, mind you, and they let me feel their biceps, probably knowing that I would compliment them on their sculpted musculation.

Our fitness club serves both men and women, with separate locker rooms and showers. One guy wears a jockstrap, and makes heterosexual comments about his huge bulge. “My girlfriend likes it thick, hard and deep!” I would love to suck him off, but I do not dare make any hint. Feeling each other’s muscles is tolerated in the fitness club as long as it doesn’t have any sexual overtone.

Since I want to worship my bodybuilder friends more freely, I decide to create a private meeting place where we can display our assets openly and… nakedly. My friends don’t mind to get in the nude, and like it when I give them an oil massage. It’s incredible how muscles on an oily body stand out, and can be so erotic. I’ve massaged Mark, Edward and Maurice many times, including their ass, balls and dick. They never moaned, never got hard, even when they could feel my rod pressing against their body. I guess my worshiping brothers are kind of heteroflexible.

When one of my friends gives me a massage, I obviously get aroused. He just laughs and continues worshiping my pecs or biceps. I refrain from moaning, from masturbating, of course. I suggest that we all wear a jockstrap, flex our muscles, and admire ourselves in the mirror covering an entire wall. I then circle around to admire each ass, slapping it nonchalantly. Mark’s butt attracts me like a magnet. His behind is so firm and so gorgeous with its huge dimples. I can’t resist squeezing his caboose. I even bend down to caress the peachy offering and… to kiss it subtly but firmly. The reaction is completely unexpected. I see Mark’s jockstrap stretching out, deliciously bulging. He quickly brushes off what just happened by saying that he has to leave for a late dinner at his girlfriend’s place.

At our next meeting, we wear singlets, do some weights, and decide to wrestle. I adore feeling a man’s hand on any part of my body, below the waist in particular. Edward nails me down, sits on my crotch and presses my arms firmly on the floor to show that he has won. I congratulate him by kissing his right firm bicep… and immediately notice how his singlet starts to bulge. I turn my face to kiss the left arm… The result is immediate: his rod doubles in size. Holy fuck! It looks like my kissing has a magic power. Edward just smiles and helps me get up, hugging me tenderly. I’m sure he also noticed my hard-on.

Maurice invites us to a restaurant known for its energy drinks and low-fat meals. During our dinner, he mentions that we should register our measurements and weight every Saturday and see how we progress. “I will bring a tape and a note book. I can’t wait to measure your biceps, pecs, waist and thighs, even your ass. It’s my way of worshiping muscles.” The last word – ass – excites me. Feeling Edward’s hand on my butt will no doubt give me a hard-on. Should I ask him to measure my erect dick…?

The bathroom at our meeting place has a shower, but my friends know that I love to smell their sweaty armpits. Dolce & Gabbana, Armani, Versace, and Ralph Lauren should create a cologne imitating that virile aroma that I find so intoxicating. After having indulged in sniffing six armpits, we take a shower and line up to be weighed and measured. Edward registers the results in pounds and inches, then asks me to measure his muscles. We have similar biceps, but his pecs seem more voluminous. A full inch more than mine. This deserves a kiss. When I start pressing my lips on one of his nipples, Edward whispers: “Kiss both, you excite me so much. I also want you to kiss to me on the lips.”

His wish is my command. I will do whatever he wants. As soon as I start to devour his mouth, he presses me against him by gripping my ass, and I feel his hard cock rubbing mine just as stiff. Mark and Maurice applaud, then approach to enjoy the same “fringe benefit”. French kissing has certainly never been so intense. Maurice doesn’t hesitate to say “You kiss ten times better that my wife!” I now have a confirmation: if I want Mark, Edward or Maurice – in a duo, trio or quartet –, I just have to use my kissing power.

I spend my entire Sunday imagining my next move. I want to get sucked and fucked by a bodybuilder. And I don’t want him to be an ordinary gym stud; he has to my best friend muscle worshiper. Mark is my first choice because his cock is thick, long and cut. I have nothing against uncut meat, its just a personal taste. At our Monday evening get together, Mark is the last one to arrive. Maurice, Edward and I have already done weights and push-ups. When I see Mark getting undressed and trying to put on a jockstrap, I immediately offer “to give him a hand” since his penis doesn’t seem to fit in perfectly. I pull it out and instead of inserting it back properly in the pouch, I not only kiss, but lick and suck his cock quickly getting hard.

Mark sees that my pooper is already lubricated. He first bites my ass cheeks, then slaps his dick on my crack, ready to pound me in the most virile way. I don’t have to guide him on his excursion into homosexual territory; he seems very comfortable. We end up in a position that enables me to kiss on the lips while he shoves his weapon into by begging hole. My moans of pain quickly become cries of pleasure. He ends up shooting his junk in my trunk exactly at the same time as I explode my own load of jizz on my chest. Edward and Maurice join in to lick me clean.