By Simon Traum

Gus recommended the gym to him; Zark's not sure why. It's not the same franchise he normally goes to, but the girl at the reception desk gives him a guest pass without any trouble. He scans the room beyond, checking out the scattered mid-afternoon attendance of mostly women, peppered with a small assortment of men working on various weight machines and treadmills. It all looks a little humdrum. Why did Gus bring the place up?

Heads swivel around as Zark enters. He's used to this; in fact, he can't relax until they get it out of their systems. Zark is hugely-built, blond, grey-eyed and, if not for the remains of his Arkansas drawl, could pass for a visiting Norse god, traveling incognito. Or as incognito as you can get when you're 6'10", broader than the doorway you just walked through and baby-faced on top of it. Women love him, tend to develop crushes on him, but Zark's had a hankering all his life for other men. Just lately, thanks mainly to Gus, he's had the opportunity to indulge it to the hilt.

Gus showed up, seemingly out of nowhere, a month or so back, and proceeded to initiate a three-way between himself, Zark and Zark's employer, Billy, whom Zark had been pining after for months. Since then, Billy's kept his own place, but sleeps over with Zark about half the nights of the week; he and Zark are getting pretty attached. Zark thinks he could probably settle down happily with Billy if Gus didn't keep dropping in every few days and dragging him off to various impromptu orgies. Ahh, who's he kidding? Zark loves it. So does Billy when Zark brings him along, even if he does try to act like he's above it sometimes. For Zark's part, he wouldn't trade all this manic erotic activity for anything; he and Gus see eye to eye on that.

But he still can't see what the fuss is about this place.

He's barely installed his bulk onto a weight bench when a wide, squat shape blocks the overhead fluorescent light from his view. A handsome, bespectacled face with an emerging five-o'clock shadow is gazing down at him. Zark's eyes flick over the rest of the guy: short, but built like a tank with hairy, outrageously overdeveloped arms and shoulders which give him a somewhat simian appearance. He's wearing a tight purple t-shirt with the gym's logo printed over the left pectoral, and some of his hair sticks up in back.

The guy grins down at Zark, appreciative. "Hey, there. You haven't been in here before, have you?" he asks.

Zark shakes his head. "Nah, a friend told me to check it out."

"My name's Hank," the guy extends a hand, which Zark grasps. "I work here as a personal trainer. Not that you need my services," he smiles wider here. "Got a hell of a build on you, man."

"I'm Zach, but everyone calls me Zark."

"Good to meet you, Zark," Hank releases the other man's hand, rubs his own nonchalantly over the concave ridges of his abdomen. "I'll be around for another hour. If you find you need anything or have problems, let me know. Maybe we'll see more of you in the future."

Zark thanks him for the courtesy and Hank retreats to wherever he came from. That was all right, Zark thinks. Nothing wrong with a little eye candy. No reason to expect any more.

His arms bulge as he lifts the bar from off its rests. Feels good. He gets people of both genders occasionally coming up and fawning over him during his workouts. It's flattering, but bad for concentration. Most of the time, he tunes them out.

An almost unnoticeable flickering betrays itself momentarily, and his dormant crotch stirs. Feels good, too. A split second image flashes through his mind of Hank's big, stubbly chin brushing the inside of Zark's bare thigh. He doesn't usually get horny when he exercises, but right now he feels like he wouldn't turn it down.

He sees Hank a couple more times over his visit; they nod to each other across the room. Nothing more of note occurs, not even in the steam room where he'd expect maybe a little friskiness if anyone else were here. The place is half-dead at this time of day. The gym itself offers nothing he doesn't get at his regular haunt. He can't see himself returning.

He showers and re-dons his street clothes, dropping the others into his bag with the rest of his stuff. He's back at the reception desk, almost out the door when a pang in his bladder informs him that he needs to piss. There's a Men's room off to his left. As he makes a beeline for it, he's only dimly aware of some new traffic coming in from outside, intent mainly on relieving himself.

He's unzipped his fly and is urinating contentedly when the hot little guy with the mohawk and the beard steps up to the urinal next to him. Zark jumps like he's been tasered, his stream faltering to a halt over the porcelain. He hadn't even heard anyone else come in, but just then he can hear the door nestling back into its frame.

Too unnerved for self-control, he stares at the diminutive, but magnetic presence beside him. The guy's maybe half Zark's size, David to Zark's Goliath, short, slim but obviously well-defined, and his big blue eyes almost seem to glow. Once he's started, Zark can't stop staring at him; temporarily transfixed. The guy looks right back at him, grinning big through his light brown beard. Zark knows he should break the stare, but he's caught, and the other guy doesn't seem upset at all. Quite the contrary.

"How's it going, big guy?" he inquires of a speech-impaired Zark, who feels a tingle low down in his belly and then realizes with a rude shock that his dick has inflated to full size in the last few seconds, sticking straight out from his open fly.

The little guy looks down and over at it. "Hey, that's nice and big." His voice is almost - but not quite - mocking, as if he knows exactly the effect he's having on poor Zark. "It must be going pretty good." His teeth showing even more clearly through his beard and mustache, he reaches over quickly and runs his fingers lightly along the underside of Zark's shaft. The room spins. Zark's prong jerks, bouncing on the warm fingers.

The hypnotic blue eyes dart back up to Zark's face, spearing him with their intensity. It isn't until the guy starts stroking his own prick that Zark sees that it's ballooned up impressively. His gaze shifts to the cute little guy's oversized erection, watching his own fingers fumbling over its warmly pulsing length. This guy's cock is fascinatingly beautiful. Zark's other hand lifts the guy's shirt up to his nipples. He groans quietly, stroking his palm down the thick brown fur that covers the guy's stomach. This is too much; Zark has a weakness for hairy guys especially. He sucks some drool back into his mouth, becoming aware of it a split second before it spills over his lower lip. He has to fight an almost overwhelming, very physical urge to kneel down and put it in his mouth. He's losing it, in public no less, distantly recognizing this with dawning horror.

The blue eyes shift their attention momentarily to the door - that silent door! - and Zark looks around, panicking, but no one's come in. Clearly thinking along the same lines, the little guy tells him, "Look, you're too hot to turn down, but this is way too exposed." He indicates the lone toilet stall at the end of the small room with a jerk of his mohawked head. "If we're quiet, you could bone me in there, but I think I want to go somewhere we can make some noise. What do you say?"

Zark nods, mute.

"Good. I live near here. There's just one more thing. I came here to meet up with my guy, my boyfriend."

Zark stares, uncomprehending.

The guy's cute, bushy eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "He works here. The good-looking Michelin man with the unkempt hair and the glasses? Hank. He told me he's been checking you out since you walked in. He's nuts over you. Is it a problem if he comes along for the ride?"

Zark finds his tongue, lying inert in the cave of his mouth, tries it on for size again. "Y-Y-You gotta be kidding, right? Bring it on, hot stuff! My name's Zark, good to meet ya."

"You're hotter than fuck, Zark. I'm Chip," the guy informs him. "Let's go to my place."

Zark's Southern drawl, its original edge blunted by urban relocation, tends to slip back into the saddle when he becomes excited, or drunk. He ain't drunk now, but he's sounding more and more like a hayseed all the time. He can't help it, doesn't even care any more, drowning in three-way kisses as soon as they get behind closed doors at Chip and Hank's apartment.

Arms around his shoulders, Chip climbs up onto Zark, wrapping his legs around the larger man's hips, both still fully clothed. Zark holds him, standing, huge hands enclosing Chip's ass as their mouths meet eagerly. Hank's moved in behind Zark, large hands massaging his arms and back. Chip strips his own shirt off, revealing a dark brown pelt that covers the whole front of his torso. Zark moans at the sight, then lifts Chip up closer to him, rubbing his face through the thicket of Chip's chest hair.

"I want him first, monkey-man," Chip announces to Hank over the back of Zark's cropped blond head. "I did the legwork."

"Fair enough," Hank concedes, removing first his glasses, then his own shirt. He flexes his huge arms and fur-dusted chest. "Is it okay if I assist? I won't get in the way." Zark can hear the longing in his voice; it's adorable.

"Fuck, yeah," Chip replies, although perhaps not to Hank, as Zark lowers the smaller man onto his back on the bed. Chip's arms retain their hold on Zark's mammoth neck and shoulders, drawing him back to where they can lock mouths together again, tongues exploring. One of Zark's hands rubs back and forth across Chip's body hair, entranced.

Hank reaches both arms around the bent-over Zark, releasing the fly on his pants, pulling them and the underwear beneath down to his knees. Zark's newly freed erection comes bouncing out, rock hard, ready to play. Hank's meaty fingers delicately stroke its breadth. Zark groans into Chip's mouth and pushes his butt back at Hank, who lets loose with an involuntary groan of his own.

Zark presses himself up on the mattress away from Chip and looks back over his shoulder at Hank, who's staring awestruck at the well-formed globes of Zark's hairless ass. "You wanna fuck that, buddy?" the big blond asks, teasing. Hank can't even speak to reply. Chip, no longer pinned beneath the giant, takes this opportunity to seize hold of Zark's shirt, pulling it up to his armpits. He regards the work of art suspended above him for a few seconds, runs a palm over the smooth, muscular chest and eight-pack abs, then begins to rub his beard back and forth down Zark's torso, working his way to the blood-engorged, bucking prong, which he saws in and out of his mouth. Hank's recovered his composure enough to free his own powerhouse of a cock, but not enough to remember he promised he wouldn't get in the way, slapping his big tool repeatedly against Zark's exposed asshole.

"Oh Lord, that feels gooder 'n grunt," Zark sighs, twang in full effect now. Hank figures if he was supposed to cool out, he should never have heard that. As if Zark's winking asshole had a hook attached, Hank falls to his knees, licking the warm aperture, locking his lips around it and spearing the hole with his tongue. As he and Chip kneel in front and back of the huge man, servicing him, Hank feels Chip's fingers blindly searching Hank's crotch for his throbbing prick, sliding over its surface, and he takes hold of Chip's warm, hard boner to do the same. They moan like they're being tortured.

Chip's bobbing head is working Zark's erection up to the point where he can't get it down his throat any more. He settles for licking his way down the swollen underside, pulling the nutsack into his mouth, which makes Zark yell. He makes a fist around the fleshy bone, gives it a bit of a shuffle, then flicks it down, watching it bounce back up to Zark's abs. This thing's good and stiff, he thinks, ready to fuck.

Twisting out of his shorts and crab-walking himself back up onto the bed, Chip grabs Zark by the pits and pulls him forward on top of him. Lifting both legs up on either side of Zark's hips, Chip tells him in a husky voice, "I need that thing inside me, big guy."

Gingerly, Zark probes his cockhead into Chip's puckered hole, which blooms around it, welcoming it in. In case he couldn't figure it out, Chip rasps, "Ahh, push it in, fucker!" Zark does.

Chip's marble-blue eyes pop wide open in something that looks like panic as his hole is breached, but he's sighing and grunting in abandon a second later. Zark's got a pretty large cock, but Chip's done this plenty of times before. It's hard to throw him off. Grunting rhythmically, bestially, Chip (who loves to talk dirty while he's fucking) lets loose a stream of exhortations, challenges and all-around shit-talking at Zark to keep him on track. "Yeah, screw my pig ass, you big hot fuck! Uhhh! Harder! Is that all you got? Come on, pussy, don't take it easy on me. I want to feel this!"

With his cock balls-deep in Chip's surging hole, with Hank's huge jaw wedged between his own asscheeks, Zark turns his face to the ceiling and howls as he fucks. From below him he hears, "Oh God! You're-- Uhhh!" Looking down, he sees Chip's dick go off all by itself, no hands, drenching Chip's furry chin and depositing the rest of his load onto his chest and stomach.

Rapidly pulling out of Chip's ass, Zark clambers on to the bed like lightning. He positions himself on all fours over Chip's prone body and tells Hank, "Okay, my turn," holding one buttcheek open.

Hank stares at him a moment as if he doesn't understand. Then he gets it and he's stuffing his thick tool up the bigger man's back passage before anyone can change their mind. Zark howls again, and Hank hopes he's not hurting him, but he's not stopping now. "Uhhh!" he grunts as his nutsack brushes against Zark's, sending an electric tingle up his spine. "Fuck! I knew you'd feel incredible..."

"Glad y'like it," Zark growls, "Now get fuckin', stud! I need this hole worked good. Wanna feel ya in there."

Hank doesn't need to hear more, but listening to it sure is working him up. He fucks harder just to hear Zark squeal and yell. They're a good match; Hank can wear himself out without worrying about anyone getting hurt. They ride each other's sweating bodies as Chip lies underneath Zark, running his hands over the big guy's physique, giving his rigid cock the odd stroke, and muttering his own horny two cents up at the straining titan. "Yeah, handsome," he breathes low. "Is my guy fuckin' you alright? Huh? You like Hank's big cock up your slutty hole? Yeah, bet you do." His blue eyes roll as Zark pants and whimpers. "God, you look good right now..."

It's not long before the blissful pressure builds to an intolerable point. Chip trips the wire, lightly grabbing hold of Zark's marble-hard dick. Zark's dripping, transported face turns itself outward and a whining groan escapes his throat as his hog goes off, spraying Chip's face with a copious load of semen. "Ahh, yeah," Chip exults, closing his eyes under the deluge.

Huge arms close around Zark's flexing torso, and with a few more rough thrusts, Hank's bellowing as he spews his cockjuice into Zark's hot, clutching rectum.

Later, a more leisurely second round begins when the threesome hits the bathroom to clean Chip off. Cleaning Chip off takes longer than it should, but that's okay. They're enjoying themselves immensely, Hank and Zark on either side of the hairy little guy, kissing him in tandem as they work the gunk out of his body fur. Renewed erections bump against other bodies under the spray.

Zark's the first to get on his knees in the shower stall, inhaling Chip's hard-on greedily, but Hank doesn't leave him down there on his own for too long. They both kneel, worshipping Chip's rigid, veiny, gorgeous cock. Zark slurps up the side of it. Hank swallows it down. They pass it back and forth. Hank and Zark kiss while Chip fucks his big, curved dick between their mouths. "Ah, God--" Chip gasps, gripping the backs of their heads.

Making their way back to the bed, Hank and Chip lie side by side, propped up on their elbows and watching as Zark sucks on their cocks alternately, taking his time as they tense and sigh under his ministrations. Lying on his stomach between them, with his legs off the bed and his huge hard-on trapped pleasantly underneath him, he grinds his crotch into the mattress and loses himself, contentedly, between two of the prettiest cocks he's ever gotten this close to.

Meanwhile, Chip and Hank, provided with a different perspective, are staring, almost hypnotized, at the spectacle of Zark's big, shapely butt as it grooves around like a buoy on choppy waves. "Amazing," breathes Chip finally. "I got to hit that."

He scrambles up over Zark's mammoth, prone body to straddle his hips, dry-humping the crack of Zark's butt. Zark moans with Hank's big cock in his mouth and pushes his ass up at Chip just in case Chip's too shy to stick it in.

He needn't have worried. Chip may be smaller than the other two, but he's a born cocksman, and can easily hold his own with Hank. As soon as it starts rising toward him, Chip angles his cock down and pushes into the hot plush heaven of Zark's asshole. "Ooooh, man," he groans. He thrusts his cock all the way in and then all the way out again. Without taking Hank's cock out of his sucking maw, Zark snaps his back end up on his knees to give Chip better access, whining for more.

Chip doesn't disappoint. Shoving his prong back inside quickly, he pumps steadily, throwing his head back and groaning loud with the sensations rocketing through his body's exertions. Watching this, Hank can feel his dick growing harder inside Zark's mouth. Deeply in love, he never gets tired of seeing Chip in action, even if it's with someone else.

Momentarily taking the meat out of his mouth, Zark licks a trail up Hank's hairy inner thigh, then descends on the organ again. He can hear Chip behind him, swearing like a sailor as he plunges in and out of Zark's pleasure-tunnel. He looks up at Hank, whose whole body seems tensed with bliss, licks his cockhead once to watch Hank flinch. Their gazes lock, and Zark maintains the eye contact as he continues sucking Hank's luscious bone.

Chip increases his speed, muttering "motherfucker" under his breath, and Zark loses himself for a little while, spit-fucked into Nirvana. Regaining his composure, he can't help announcing to Hank, "Damn, he's good at that."

"Yeah, I know," Hank grins back at him, sweat running down his face. "He's about the only guy I'll let up me."

"Does that mean you - Uh! - ain't gonna let me fuck you?"

Hank smiles, looking irresistible. "We can discuss it later." His weighty palm descends on the back of Zark's head, pushing it back towards Hank's crotch. "Keep sucking my cock for now."

"Mmmmph," is all Zark can get out, mouth full, eyes still engaged with Hank's.

Chip starts taking his cock out of Zark's hole between thrusts, watching the aperture close up before breaching it again. He does this several times, observing his cock growing thicker and stiffer from the alternated sensation, then shoves it back in and pounds for all he's worth, hands clamped to Zark's hips, slim hairy torso flexed and defined, bearded chin jutting forward aggressively, growling.

Hank's cock falls out of Zark's mouth under the onslaught. "Oh, Lord-- Uhhh! I'm gonna come, Chip," Zark whines.

"Yeah, you are," Chip replies with all the confidence in the world, and increases his rhythm again, intent on fucking Zark's load out of him. "C'mon, ya big fuckin' ox, let's see how good we can make you feel."

At that, Zark falls into something like an animalistic glossolalia as Chip expertly works his hole, guiding him into the promised land. "AaahooohhhyahFUCKaaahhhhh!" His cock fountains a Niagara of white-hot pleasure onto the sheets below him.

"Fuck yeah." Chip grunts. "I'm right behind you, stud! Here it comes," and then he's shooting his load deep into Zark's convulsing butthole. At the same moment, Hank seizes Zark's head, pushing it all the way down his cock as his own orgasm storms through his body. Transfixed by ecstasy, Zark still has the presence of mind to move his big arms over his head and, working by feel alone, flick both thumbs over Hank's orgasm-sensitized nipples. Hank bellows, and Zark has a brief hallucination that Hank's body has lit up like neon, cock vibrating in his mouth as it shoots down his gullet.

Afterward, satisfied, they lie in an exhausted pile over the confused wreckage of the damp sheets, Hank and Chip on opposite sides of the blond giant, just drifting.

Eventually, Hank lifts his head up, seeking out Chip. "Hey, you know, we haven't had this much fun since before Jacob moved out," he opines.

"Who's Jacob?" Zark asks.

Chip brings him up to speed. "Jacob was kind of me and Hank's official third. He used to live with us, had his own room, but then he moved in with a guy he met, and we moved here."

"He's about Jacob's size, isn't he?" Hank says to Chip, surveying Zark again.

"Oh yeah," confirms Chip. "Jacob would love you," he informs Zark. "If we could get him separated from Trent for a few minutes."

"Why separate them?" Hank shrugs. "Bring him along. Trent can keep up."

Chip looks back at Zark. "So you want to come over and do it again tomorrow night?" he inquires.

"Ah, it's Friday tomorrow. I'm gonna have to work."

"Call in sick."

"I can't. I'm sleeping with my boss."

Chip considers this. "Hot," he ventures, eyes shining. "Is he cute?"

"Yeah, you'd like him, but he's gonna want me to himself tomorrow."

"All right," Chip admits defeat. "You know where we live, big guy. You're welcome any time. Don't worry if we already have company. We'll make room for you."

"Hell, yeah," agrees Hank, arms wrapped around Zark from behind, stubbly chin brushing against Zark's shoulder. "As much as you can handle."

Leaving, Zark wonders, Did Gus know this would happen? Gus seems to possess an uncanny ability, demonstrated often, to predict where very intense man-sex is about to occur. He's like a sexual compass. Is it some kind of sixth sense thing or does he stack the deck somehow? Zark can't tell what the man does, but he's hooked. Gus is pure gold; he didn't even have to be around for it to happen this time. How the hell does he do that? However he does it, Zark's finished doubting him, and ready for more whenever Gus is.

Contented now, faith restored, with his whole big body buzzing pleasantly, Zark makes his way home in the gathering dusk, grey eyes shining, smiling from ear to ear.


Simon Traum


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