Description Blake and Chad, two recent college graduates, meet at Muscles in Motion, the only gym in their small town in the Catskills. Thrown together as workout partners by the sex-on-a-stick straight boy personal trainer who doesn’t have any interest in clients beyond their bust size, Blake and Chad soon they really are Made for Each Other!
|Updated||13 Jun 2020|
“You guys are made for each other!”
Chad Bennett and Blake Porter looked at each other. “Ya think so, huh?” That was Chad…or maybe it was Blake.
Tucker Shaw wasn’t sure which one it was and he really wasn’t too interested. Bennett and Porter had shown up at Muscles in Motion within a couple of days of each other, looking for gym memberships and/or a trainer, and they were both dull as dishwater, from Tucker’s point of view. Tucker was Muscles in Motion’s top trainer, of course, and quite possibly the best-looking man in all of Ottawossamie County. He certainly thought so and, if asked, preferably in a dark bar with loud music playing in the background and with three or four drinks under their belts, both Chad and Blake would have agreed with Tucker’s assessment. It didn’t hurt that Shaw was built like a Greek god, 6 feet tall and 225 pounds of ripped muscle with single digit body fat. Plus a great tan (always hard to come by in Upstate New York, especially in winter), piercing blue eyes, dimpled chin, brilliant white teeth, cheekbones to die for, and a thick mane of wavy blond hair.
“Seriously, yes,” Tucker replied, looking at Blake… or maybe it was Chad. “You’re both the same age, about the same size, at about the same level, and for what you’re willing to pay you’re each going to be better off finding a suitable training partner,” Tucker continued. “I’ll take you through the basics, then you can have it.”
Just then Suzie Thomas, the buxom former cheerleader squad leader, walked in the front door and Tucker for all intents and purposes dematerialized, leaving his two newest gym members staring at each other, not quite sure how to begin.
Chad Bennett looked at Blake Porter. What he saw was, well, it wasn’t bad: About his height, so a shade under 6 ft., probably about his weight (160 pounds), not fat, not skinny, just sort of shapeless. Vaguely strawberry blond hair (i.e., not quite blond, not quite brown, not quite red), peaches and cream skin, well-defined sideburns, slightly weak chin offset by really nice dimples, and great horn-rimmed glasses.
Porter stuck out his hand, which Bennett took in his own. Firm grip, he noted, nothing namby-pamby but none of the macho “let’s see if I can make you wince” shit that was all too common among their age group. “I’m guessing Tucker is right,” Blake said. “Of course, we both filled out the membership card so he would, wouldn’t he?”
Chad chuckled. “I guess he would, come to think of it.”
They compared notes. They were, in fact, both 5 feet 11½ inches tall and 160 pounds Likewise, they were both 22 and recent college graduates. “But I’m from here originally,” Chad pointed out. He had gone to school downstate and was now back in town working for a local accounting firm whereas Blake had earned his RN at the local SUNY branch and was now working for the community hospital.
“And I’m happy to be out of the city,” Blake noted. “It’s a fun place to visit but living there, man, it can be a pain in the ass.” Not that you’d have any problem there, he added to himself.
Chad might not have much of a body but from Blake’s point of view he was a real looker. Wavy-dark hair, sultry brown eyes, sexy stubble, and luxuriant black curls filling the open v-neck of his polo shirt.
“So what are your goals?” They asked at the same time, then laughed. “I don’t want to get too big,” Chad said. “That fitness model look is what I’m aiming for.” Blake raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he said. “Me, I want to get as big as possible.” Chad did a double take. “Football big or Hulk big?” he asked. Blake looked him dead in the eye. “I wanna make a public spectacle of myself,” he said, completely serious. “I want to make the Hulk look like a little girl.”
Damn, Chad thought, that’s fucking sexy as a hell!
“Mmm, uh, well, hmmm,” Chad began, then covered his confusion with a cough. Blake pounded him on the back…and let his hand linger after Chad finished coughing! “I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up with you, not in the long run,” Chad continued. “But we’re starting in the same place and I’ve been told I’m good at motivating people.”
Blake squeezed Chad’s shoulder. “Then it’s a deal?” Chad stuck his hand out.
“He’s so fucking hot,” Blake muttered under his breath. Chad shot him a glance. Whether or not he knew it, Blake was staring at Tucker Shaw…and getting a chubby doing so!
“Down boy,” Chad said. “Let’s focus.” With that peaches and cream complexion, there was no way Blake could hide a blush at the best of times…and this wasn’t the best of times. “Uh…” he started. Chad chuckled. “And, yeah, he is,” he added. It was Blake’s turn to look Chad up and down. “So…” Chad nodded.
“Unless you’ve got that bi thing going on, we’re members of the same club, buddy boy.” Blake let out a long whoosh of air. “In that case…” Chad pointed to the bench. “Twelve reps—now!” he commanded.
It was a week after Shaw had introduced the two of them and three days after he had spent one hour taking them through a very sketchy workout routine. “Here’s how to do this, here’s how to do that, here’s how to do the other,” as Chad recalled it. Neither of them had ever spent any time in the gym, ergo Blake was a portrait of concentration as he lifted the weight off the stanchions—a grand total of 95 pounds—and smoothly cranked out the reps.
“Not so fast next time,” Chad said. “And remember to breathe.” Then it was his turn.
Afterwards they went to The Diner and pigged out on breakfast food, scrambled eggs and bacon and sausage and French toast and endless cups of coffee. “So, you live with your parents, right?” Blake asked. Chad rolled his eyes and nodded. “I was lucky enough to get through Fentress without acquiring any significant debt,” Chad said. “But it just doesn’t make sense to pay rent if I don’t have to.”
Blake waffled his hand up and down. “For what they charge for these dumps, yeah, I can see that. On the other hand, it puts a crimp in your social life, doesn’t it?” Chad snorted. “There’s not much social life to be had around here, if you hadn’t noticed!” It was Blake’s turn to chuckle.
“Well, hey, if you want to get smashed every weekend and have frat girls in micro skirts and stiletto heels feeling you up and then barfing on your shoes…” Chad bumped Blake’s fist.
“And what’s not to like about that, right?”
They said it at the same time, then burst out laughing, loud enough that Elna, who’d been waiting on Chad at The Diner since he was in pre-school, came over to find out what was the matter.
“Oh, nothing, Miss E,” Chad said. “We just need some waffles!” Elna gave Chad one of those “I better be getting a damned good tip for this nonsense” looks and headed to the kitchen to put in their order.
“‘Miss E?’” Blake asked. “Does everyone know everyone in this town?” Chad gave him his patented “do you really need to ask?” look. “It’s too small to have an affair, that’s for sure,” Chad pointed out.
But I guess we play the hand we’re dealt, Blake thought. When they finished the waffles and paid up, Blake invited Chad to his house.
“You have an entire house?!”
“It’s a very small house,” he said. “Real estate here is so cheap compared to Long Island my parents figured it would be a better deal that dorms or student apartments. Plus a tax break and ‘it’s an investment,’ they said.” Chad nodded. “Yep, true dat,” he said and, when Blake raised an eyebrow. “Hey, I’m an accountant, not a stick-in-the-mud!”
It was cute house. Just 800 square feet, with a small living, dining room, kitchen, and powder room downstairs, it had two upstairs bedrooms (and a full bath), along with a fenced back yard and a one-car garage with an extra uncovered parking space.
“Sweet!” Chad said after he’d had the tour. “And in good weather it’s walking distance to downtown…”
Blake nodded. “And to the hospital and, up the hill, to campus, although I almost always took the bus.”
Chad suddenly realized they were in Blake’s bedroom and that he was sitting on Blake’s bed, a bright blonde Shaker style affair with what appeared to be a vintage quilt and about a dozen throw pillows. “You want to be as big as Tucker, don’t you?” Chad asked, quietly.
Blake stood directly in front of Chad, one hand massaging his chest, the other resting gently on his crotch. “Hell, no,” Blake answered—it was more of a growl. “I want to make Tucker Shaw look like the little girl he is.” Chad reached for Blake’s hand—the one resting gently on his crotch—and pulled him down to the bed.
And that’s how it started.
After they were finished…
Well, in fact, it took them quite a long while to finish! Chad and Blake fucked, sucked, licked, stroked, nibbled, gnawed, slammed, caressed…They lost track but it seemed clear that they’d done just about everything that two young, healthy gay men could possibly do to each other and they’d cum more times than they thought humanly possible.
“Jesus,” Chad said when they finally done. “What was that all about?”
Blake pulled him back down and took Chad’s handsome face in hands.
“Move in with me.” Chad’s eyes flew open. “Hey, handsome, hold on a minute!” Chad bounced off the bed. “Do I look like a lesbian to you?” Blake chortled. “Not hardly, no,” he agreed. “And you don’t appear to have a U-Haul truck at your disposal. Even so…”
Chad felt a warm glow. He had lost his virginity on a weekend trip to the city with the Latin Club in his senior year of high school. Likewise, he had dated and fucked often enough as an undergraduate at Fentress. Still, there had never been a “special someone” and he had decided that day was likely to be a long ways off, if ever.
“You know what?” Chad said. “You are handsome, smart, sweet, and you really know how to use that big dick of yours…”
Blake arched an eyebrow. “But…?”
Chad shrugged. “I’ve never had a steady boyfriend, much less moved in with someone,” he pointed out. “Let’s give it some time and then see, okay?”
Blake looked downcast for a moment, then he perked up. “Ready for round 2?”
“I think it’s round 17, actually,” he replied. “And, yeah, let’s do it!”
A week later Tucker Shaw came up to Blake and Chad while they were working.
“You two are really going great guns,” he said in his usual smarmy way. “You’ve been in here every day. Make sure you don’t over train!” The two young men looked at Shaw like he was an idiot.
“You told us to watch out for that,” Blake said.
“And we’ve been careful to stretch before and after every work out,” Chad added.
“Plus we’ve been taking in carbs before each workout,” Blake pointed out.
“And loading up on protein immediately afterwards,” Chad continued.
“But we haven’t had any muscle soreness so I guess all of that is working,” they concluded together.
Shaw looked from one to the other. “Do you guys always finish each other’s sentences?” Blake crossed his arms. They were bigger than Tucker remembered. Of course, when he first saw the guys they were both wearing baggy long sleeve shirts and now they had (almost) matching tank tops.
Looks like the boys have been on a shopping spree, Tucker thought. That’ll make Dick’s happy, anyway!
“Great chatting with you, Tucker, but it’s time we got back to our workout, right Blake?”
Shaw nodded and walked away while Blake slid onto the bench. Chad slipped off a quarter from each end of the bar and replaced each one with a 45. As soon as he had done so, Blake easily cranked out 12 reps at 225 pounds. There was something about it all that didn’t quite add up, but Tucker would have been hard pressed to point out what it was. As a rule, people didn’t tell the Muscles in Motion trainer to get lost. And since when were they using 45s instead of 25s? Tracy Summers walked through the front door, her blonde pony-tail bouncing in time with her boobs, and Tucker forgot all about Blake and Chad.
“We seem to be making really good progress,” Chad said, when Blake finished the set.
“I think you’re right,” Blake replied, while stretching his chest / shoulder junction.
“And you were right about 185 being too light for me,” he continued. “I think I could have managed at least one set at 205.”
“You could have managed three sets at 205, no doubt about it,” he countered.
Chad shook his head.
“That’s okay,” he said. “Slow and easy for me. You’re the one who’s in such an all-fired hurry to turn into the Hulk. Speaking of which, how much have you gained since we started?”
Blake had the decency to blush—one of his most endearing traits!
“Uh, if the scale is to be believed, seven pounds,” he muttered.
Chad looked his new best friend / lover up and down.
“I believe it,” he said matter-of-factly. “In fact, I’m almost surprised it hasn’t been more. Except that it looks like the pudge is melting right off of you!” It was true. Even though Blake had gained what appeared to be seven pounds of solid muscle in the week he’d been working out with Chad, he’d actually lost an inch and a half from his waist.
“Yeah, but who’s turning into Mr. Fitness Model?” Blake countered.
It was Chad’s turn to blush. Unlike Blake, Chad hadn’t gained or lost any weight. Even so, he’d somehow managed to lose three inches from his waist, three inches that had mysteriously turned into an extra inch on his chest, his shoulders, his arms, and his legs.
“Not to mention Model Handsome,” Blake continued. Chad fake punched Blake’s shoulder, then winced and wrung out his hand. “Ow,” he said. “Since when did you start putting rocks under your skin?”
Blake grinned. “About the time the baby fat fell off your cut-glass cheekbones and that chin dimple showed up!”
It was true. You wouldn’t think that a week would make such a difference but Chad had gone from handsome to, well, impressive. Didn’t hurt that he was obviously having some kind of testosterone spike since his stubble was getting thicker every day. Chad shook his head.
“Man, I’m starving!”
“Me, too,” he agreed. “So the next question is…?”
“Eat first…or go to your place for a quickie first?” Blake’s mouth formed a perfect O of mock horror. “What would Miss Elna say?” The two looked at each other.
Three weeks later, Chad dropped the bomb. “Are you still up for having me move in with you?” The delight on Blake’s face was all Chad needed to know. “There’s one thing you’ve gotta do first,” Chad said. Blake’s face fell. “Have dinner with me and my parents,” Chad continued. Blake laughed. “Is that all?” Chad spluttered. “Is that all? I’ve never introduced a boyfriend to my parents before!” Blake rolled his eyes. “They’re not phobes, are they?” Blake asked. Chad snorted.
“Not hardly, like I told you, my dad is a history professor, my mom is a librarian,” he pointed out. “I don’t know if you have to be a card-carrying member of the ACLU to get jobs like that…but they all wind up with them!”
Blake stretched. Damn, he’s getting buff, Chad thought, watching Blake’s skin-tight polo ride up his hard flat stomach.
“Piece o’ cake…”
The seam connecting the polo’s banded sleeve to the underarm burst open. “Well, damn,” Blake said. “I guess the workouts are working.”
Chad splooged his pants. “Uh, mmm, ah, well, uh…” Blake looked his love up and down. “You didn’t, did you? I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with it. In fact…” Blake’s big thick dick was rock solid. “I think maybe we should…” he said, moving closer to Chad.
Chad straightened. “Forget it, chum, we’ve got work to do. You change, I’ll take a shower, and then…” Blake arched an eyebrow. “And then…?” Over his shoulder as he headed to the bathroom, Chad called.
“We’ll go shopping!”
Chad’s dad, Brad, was just as tweedy as Chad made him out to be, Blake thought.
About an inch shorter than Chad, sandy brown hair with flecks of gray, a neat goatee, old-fashioned round “granny” glasses, with a slim runner’s build, Brad Bennett looked like Chad would look in 30 years, assuming Chad took up distance running. He had on topsiders, chinos, an Oxford-cloth button down shirt, and an honest to God tweed jacket with elbow patches.
Way to work the stereotype, Mr. B! Blake thought.
Laura, though, was something else. Dark auburn hair in a vaguely Sally Bowles pageboy bob, luminous green eyes, 5’2” tall with curves in all the right places, she wore a pale green sheath that covered, plunged, and revealed in disturbing sorts of ways, and enhanced her fiery eyes at the same time.
“Damn, Mrs. B,” Blake said. “How come I never noticed you at the library?”
Her throaty chuckle would have made Lauren Bacall proud.
“Not all of us work on the front lines,” she said. “On any given day you’ll see me wandering through but I don’t work reference or circ so unless you were a student assistant, and obviously you were not—I’d remember!”
Chad looked like he had indigestion.
Great, he thought. That’s all I need. My cougar mom is hitting on my boyfriend!
“I have to admit I’m kinda surprised not to have run into you myself,” Mr. Bennett said. “I do quite a bit of academic counseling with the student athletes, especially the football and baseball teams.”
“Then you definitely would not have seen me, sorry!” he said. “I was in class or the computer lab or working back stage at the Little Theatre.”
Brad Bennett’s eyes narrowed.
“But you’re such a jock! I can’t imagine why Coach Harper didn’t snap you up the minute he laid eyes on you.”
“Dad, Blake started working out the same time I did,” Chad said. “He hasn’t always been this big!”
Although, come to think, Chad could understand why his dad was confused. The day before Blake had weighed in at 191 pounds. Watching Blake bench 315 pounds for reps, his powerful muscles easily moving six plates up and down, anyone would assume he was a natural athlete. As if to make up for his faux pas, Brad Bennett compounded it by following up with a 10-minute mini-dissertation on football at Ottawosammie State. Which Blake followed up with 10-minute mini-dissertation on oncology nursing and why he preferred it to ER work.
“I’ll spare you the latest machinations of the American Library Association,” Mrs. Bennett said. “Perhaps Chad would like to fill us in on the latest IRS rule changes.”
Ooof! Brad and Blake had the decency to blush and Chad deftly moved the conversation to discuss upcoming plans to visit New York to see the Broadway production of Kinky Boots and an art exhibit at NYU. “The one about the Physique Pictorial guy?” his dad asked. “I saw that in The Times—looks interesting!”
Chad blushed. It hadn’t occurred to him that his dad had any clue that Physique Pictorial ever existed, much less what it meant to a couple of muscle-oriented young gay men like him and Blake!
A week later…
“Dot dada da!” Chad handed Blake a bouquet of roses when the latter opened the door. It was move-in day…and exactly one month since Blake had asked him to move in! “You shouldn’t have,” Blake said. “But they’re really nice. Let me get something to put them in…”
After four years of college, Chad really didn’t have that much stuff: clothes, books (and books and books), CDs and DVDs (he was old school that way), some knick-knacks, and an honest-to-God desktop computer, plus desk and chair. They had already agreed to set up the computer in the spare bedroom so it was just a matter of moving the daybed to the garage (a sorority chick was coming to pick up that afternoon) and re-arranging Blake’s office stuff. Two hours later the rental truck had been returned to Home Depot and the two lovers were sitting in Blake’s small dining room, shirtless, eating pizza and washing it down with Sam Adams.
“Do you ever think about it?” Chad asked, looking across the table at Blake.
“Think about what?” Blake said.
Chad waved his hands at Blake, up and down, side to side, and did the same with himself.
“You mean how the gym is going?”
“I’m deliriously happy,” Blake replied. “I was kinda hoping that once I worked up the nerve to go do it I’d be good at it, and, well, as you say…”
Good at it, indeed, Chad thought.
In 5 weeks Blake had put on 40 pounds of solid muscle. He’d lost 2 inches from his waist but added 8 inches to his chest, 5 inches to his quads, and 4 inches to his arms. And the day before he’d benched 405 pounds for reps—four times as much as he’d lifted five weeks earlier.
“You more so than I am, perhaps.”
Blake guffawed. “You’re kidding, right? You’re not as big, but you didn’t want to be, remember? And, Jesus, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get so ripped so fast!”
It was true. At 180 pounds whatever baby fat Chad had when he started lifting had completely melted away. They’d actually borrowed that handheld thingy from doofus Tucker Shaw. If it was to be believed, Chad’s body fat ratio was just 7%—a number Tucker, with 10% body fat, wasn’t willing to credit! He wiped down the device, then made Chad do it again. Same result. Next he wiped it down, rebooted it, and shook it. Still the same result.
“You could do laundry on those abs,” Blake pointed out.
“And what’s up with benching 295 pounds?” Blake asked. “That’s just silly. If you can bench 295 pounds for 10 reps, you can bench 315 pounds for 8!” Chad rolled his eyes. They’d had this argument three times already.
“Slow and steady,” Chad said. “I don’t need to be a meathead!” Blake stood up and leaned over Chad. Damn, he was getting w-i-d-e, not just thick! “Who you calling a meathead, buddy?” Chad grabbed Blake’s throbbing cock. “The guy who knows he can get you to cum just by saying it, over and over again, that’s who!”
Three weeks later Blake and Chad were getting ready for Suzie Thomas’ Labor Day pool party.
“Dammit all,” Chad swore. Blake took one look Chad’s speedo and started laughing. “What’s so funny?” Chad demanded. Blake wiped his eyes.
“Watching you try to stuff yourself into last year’s speedo, that’s what. What were you thinking?” Chad ripped the much too small suit off and threw it on the floor. “I was thinking I have a much smaller waist than I did last year, that’s what!” Blake decided it was time to smooth ruffled feathers.
“Well, hon, you DO have a much smaller waist, at least based on the evidence before me. But you’re forgetting that even though your waist has shrunk—and turned into carved titanium, I might add—other parts of you have grown. A lot!”
Indeed. At 195 pounds of ridiculously ripped, proportionate muscle, Chad was 35 pounds heavier than he had been when they started training, and in addition to his chest, arms, shoulders, and neck, a goodly portion of that muscle had also gone to his legs and his ass. And somewhere else.
“Don’t you think it’s strange that our dicks are growing as well as our muscles?” Blake snorted. “You may not have noticed but they’re getting at least as much exercise as our muscles are,” Blake countered. Chad punched his lover’s bulging deltoids, then shook his hand, wincing.
“Damn, I keep forgetting about that!” Blake shrugged his ridiculous shoulders, which always made Chad think of a human tsunami. “Besides, as you—Mr. RN!—know damn well, it’s an organ, not a muscle, and not amenable to exercise!”
It was true, of course, and Blake, who really did know quite a bit about anatomy and physiology, was at a loss to explain why each of them had experienced a notable increase in length and girth in their nether regions. What had been nice-sized dicks (8 x 5 for Chad, 7 x 6 for Blake) were turning into porn star tools (11 x 7 and 10 x 8 respectively!) Talking about dicks was causing Blake’s to plump up, or that may have been because he was standing in front of the full-length mirror in their bedroom.
“Go on,” Chad said. “Don’t be embarrassed. I know you want to do it!”
Less than a week after moving in, Chad—quite by accident—had approached their bedroom door only to find Blake going through a set of bodybuilding poses: double biceps, side chest, quads, calves, front lats, most muscular. He watched surreptitiously until the last pose and then walked in. Blake was mortified, of course, turning about 12 different shades of purple. And he was still hesitating, even now.
“I guess I forgot to mention: I like to watch!”
Grinning, Blake took a breath and stood stock still. What he saw was completely amazing: 235 pounds of solid muscle, not as ripped as Chad’s but dense, thick, and defined, with classic separations, a deep crevice between his pecs, and a rock hard six pack. Blake went through the mandatories and as he did so Chad’s monster cock got harder and harder. “Time to measure,” Chad said, when Blake had finished. “Now that you’re nice and pumped!”
He called off the numbers:
“Neck, 20 inches…
“Chest, 52 inches…
“Left arm, 20½ inches…
“Right arm, 20¾ inches…
“Waist, 32 inches…
“Quads, 29 inches…
“Calves, 20 inches…
With every number, Blake’s dick inflated that much further. “Ya know,” Blake said. “These days it seems like I’m always pumped!” Chad chuckled.
“I know, I’ve noticed,” he agreed. “And I’m always hard, mostly from looking at you!”
Suzie’s cook-out was the next day. Chad and Blake showed up in track pants and light-weight hoodies, with tank tops and swim suits underneath. “Oh, look,” Tucker Shaw hooted. “It’s the ‘muscle boys’! I didn’t know you knew these fellas, Suze.” Suzie rolled her eyes.
“Tucker, I know you’ll find this hard to fathom, but you’re not the only person I know at Muscles in Motion,” she deadpanned. “In fact, I know just about everyone there, especially the two hot gay guys with the droll humor and the incredible fashion sense.”
Tucker did a double take. “Nerd-wear is fashionable now?” He immediately turned back to Suzie to stare (he never stopped) at her cleavage. Suzie gave her “boyfriend” (she’d only recently started adding the silent quotation marks) a look that would have melted lead under ordinary circumstances but Tucker Shaw was made of sterner stuff.
“Quite fashionable, yes,” Suzie said, putting a finger under Tucker’s square cut jaw and elevating it so that he was looking at her eyes. “Not to mention the best built!”
Tucker’s jaw dropped.
“The best built?! Are you crazy? Those two…”
Suzie turned him around. While Tucker had been yammering, Blake and Chad had shucked the hoodies and track pants, an action that caused every other pair of eyes at the pool to swivel their way and half a dozen people (men and women) to subconsciously step closer to the pair. Chad’s bright aqua suit provided a nice horizontal break in the vertical line of the dark curls that covered his legs and sculpted torso, highlighting every cut, crevice, nook, and cranny of his Adonis-worthy build.
Tucker still had 30 pounds on Chad, who was exactly his height, but at 4-5% Chad’s bodyfat ratio was less than half of Tucker’s. It wasn’t just ripped, he was fucking shredded. And had he always looked like a super-built, super-sexier version of Ian Somerhalder? And where did that come from, Tucker wondered. Who the fuck is Ian Somerhalder?
As for Blake…
“Like what you see, Tucker?”
While Tucker had been mesmerized by Chad’s conditioning, Blake had stepped up beside Tucker. He put a thick, veiny paw on Tucker’s shoulder and gave it a painful squeeze. Annoyed, Tucker turned directly to face the younger man.
The man in the bright orange square cut briefs wasn’t as shredded as Chad but he was close to competition ready and he was big. He had at least 10 pounds of muscle on Tucker, all of it in the right places, and a smaller waist.
For that matter, how did he stuff that anaconda in there?!
“Jeezus,” Tucker said. “What are you guys on?”
Blake and Chad looked at each other and chortled. “‘On?’ You think we’re ‘on’ something?” Blake said. Tucker spluttered. “Look, you’re half again as big as you were when I signed you up!” Chad and Blake gave each other a devilish look. “Good thing we haven’t been over-training!” Chad said. “We might hurt ourselves!” Blake agreed. Suzie had had enough.
“You didn’t seem to have a problem repping out 545 on the incline bench the other day,” she pointed out, squeezing Blake’s big arm, which now measured 20 inches cold. “And who had 20 plates on the leg press machine last night? Was it 5 sets…or six?”
She poked one exquisitely manicured fingernail in the deep gully between the twin rows of Chad’s eight-pack. Chad looked Tucker square in the eye. “Seven sets, Suzie, but I didn’t know you were keeping track!” Tucker Shaw looked from one to the other. He was out-muscled, out-shredded, and from the look of those speedos…
That orange really did look nice given Chad’s peaches-and-cream complexion. And where the fuck did that come from?!
It was going to be a l-o-n-g cook out.
“I need a beer!”
Ten days later…
They stood together, side by side, in front of the full length mirror, Blake’s massive arm draped across Chad’s burgeoning shoulders. It was a day they knew they’d both long remember: That morning Blake had weighed in at a rock solid 250 pounds, two days after Chad broke the 200-pound barrier. In a little less than 10 weeks their bodies had been completely transformed.
Exploded is more like it, Chad thought.
Together they’d put on an incredible 130 pounds of solid muscle. Considering the two of them had each weighed 160 pounds at the start it was almost like they had grown another person’s worth of muscle! And there were no signs that the muscle growth was stopping, or even slowing down. In fact, the rate of growth was quite possibly accelerating. Then there were the dicks. Another half inch and Chad would have an Honest-to-God “foot long” and Blake wasn’t far behind.
Feeling Blake’s arm—now 22 inches cold—unconsciously flex against his neck, Chad made his abs dance, one row up, one row down. He brushed his hand against the paper-thin skin causing a network of tiny veins to rush to the surface, joining the pencil-thick numbers that never seemed to go away no matter how relaxed he was. “There’s something I want to try,” Blake murmured. Chad’s porn star dick shot to full mast. It did so whenever Blake “had an idea!”
Blake put his meaty paws on Chad’s delicious, rock hard bubble butt and effortlessly lifted Chad’s 200 pounds into the air.
“Woo hoo!” Chad exclaimed, locking his sculpted quads around Blake’s massive chest, the rest of his body completely supported by Blake’s powerful arms, arms capable of effortlessly curling 225 pounds for reps. Blake tongued Chad’s hole and Chad saw stars. Time disappeared but then Blake said: “Are you ready for the next part?” Chad just grunted.
Blake shifted position and Chad found himself hanging down head first. He swallowed Blake’s massive rod to the hilt and felt Blake take his own monster cock in his hot mouth. They were 69’ing and Chad’s feet weren’t touching the floor! For all practical purposes he was flying! After a while, Chad pulled off Blake’s tool and babbled incoherently. Blake deposited Chad on the bed. Looking up from the bed, all Chad could see was a wall of muscle!
“Blake, my God, Blake,” he panted.
Blake held his ridiculously thick shaft with one hand and then flexed his other arm. The bicep peak rose higher and higher. “You want this…” Blake said, shaking his cock. “Or this?” he added, licking his bicep peak. Chad answered by standing up from the bed and literally climbing onto Blake’s dick. He wrapped his legs around Blake’s narrow hips.
“Let’s rock, Big Man,” he said.
And so they did.
Halloween rolled around 3½ weeks later…
“There’s something I keep meaning to mention,” Blake said. They were trying on costumes. Chad wanted to go as an Olympic gymnast, a la Bart Connors (or whatever his name was), until Blake pointed out he was never going to find a costume that fit. “You’re at least half again as big as they are!”
The stretchy unitard, though, made a great wrestling outfit. Chad was sewing a big felt Q on it. He was going to be a wrestler from “Queer State University.” “And what’s that?” Chad asked, still engrossed in his stitching. Blake cleared his throat and Chad looked up. Clearly something was troubling the big man!
“You know when we had sex the first time?” Blake said. Chad arched an eyebrow. “How could I forget?” Blake pursed his lips. “It was my first time, period,” he blurted. Chad’s eyes flew open. “What?! Are you telling me you were a virgin?!!” Blake blushed furiously.
“I know, I know, it’s dorky but…”
Chad embraced his lover, laying his gorgeous head on the rock-hard pillows that constituted Blake’s enormous pecs. “Babe, it’s not dorky at all! You know, it’s not like I had that much experience before! I just assumed we were in the same boat!”
Blake sighed. “I thought you’d think I was clumsy,” he continued. “Hopefully I’m getting better at it!” Chad gaped. “You’re kidding, right? On a 1-to-10 scale, you’re a hundred and one!! Get over it!” Blake blushed.
Chad wrapped his hand around Blake’s rapidly engorging 12-inch dick. At 9-inches in circumference, his fingers could barely close the gap! “Really,” he said, then thought for a moment. “I guess it’s the case that you lack a basis for comparison, isn’t it?” Blake grimaced. “Well, yes, but that would mean…”
“Let’s be clear about something, Big Man,” he said. “There isn’t a man on Earth who is sexier and hotter than you are. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t still plenty of hot men out there!” Blake looked at Chad sideways. “Does that mean…?”
Chad nodded. “It means that if you’re up for it we probably have a duty to the Gay Men of the World to demonstrate just how fucking hot and sexy you are!” Blake pulled Chad close. “Just so long as you’re by my side, okay?” Chad buried his nose in the cleft between Blake’s mammoth pecs. “Try and stop me! Now, as for the costume…”
Blake had really wanted to go as the Incredible Hulk and more than anyone this side of the Mr. Olympia stage there was no doubt he’d be able to pull it off. But then Chad started about body paint and the fact that he’d need to shave down and what a pain it was to get off and Blake began to get cold feet. “Maybe you should as a cave man?” Chad suggested. “You know, loin cloth, club, wig. Like that episode of the Big Bang Theory!” Blake’s eyes lit up. He and Chad were both avid fans of Brian Patrick Wade, although any more that television hunk would be a pipsqueak compared to Blake!
The party was at Suzie Thomas’ house, as usual, and even though it had been a couple of weeks since she and Tucker Shaw had broken up “there’s no way I can’t invite him to come so you guys need to be there to make sure he doesn’t, y’know, lose his mind or something.” To say that Blake and Chad’s entrance caused a sensation would be an understatement. They were greeted by:
Well, and how not? At 220 pounds and 3% bodyfat, Chad looked like a taller, hairy version of that physique model, what’s his name, Raciel Something. His ripped 20-inch arms vied for attention with his ridiculously sculpted 28-inch waist and his incredible 28-inch quads. Plus that bulge in his unitard, good grief! Someone ought to call the cops—it was clear he was carrying a concealed weapon!
As for Blake… Holy Mother of God! Half an inch taller than Chad, Blake was exactly 300 pounds and totally pleased to have finally gotten his body-fat (just a hair) under 10%. Blake appeared twice as wide as Chad even though his midsection (which appeared to be constructed from half-a-dozen compacted beer kegs!) was only slightly larger, no more than 32 inches tops! And his chest! Sixty inches of power, his pecs were so full his nipples pointed down instead of out. They flowed seamlessly into basketball-sized delts, hulking traps leading in one direction to a neck that was clearly larger than Suzie’s waist and in the other direction to arms that were…
Tucker Shaw, already three sheets to the wind, took one look at those arms, arms that unflexed were nearly as large as his quads, and pitched forward into Suzie’s punch bowl! Blake and Chad were on him in a shot, Chad righting the table and rescuing the punch bowl while Blake effortlessly lifted Tucker from the ground and held there with one hand while gently slapping Tucker’s face with the other.
“C’mon, buddy, time to wake up,” Blake said.
Suzie, her wholesome “All American Girl” face a mask of Athenian fury, nodded towards her bedroom. “Take him in there and do whatever you need to do,” she said, through clenched teeth, then appointed two of her sorority sisters to work the crowd while two others were marched into the kitchen to help whip up another batch of punch. Blake deposited Tucker in Suzie’s shower while Chad grabbed towels and then turned on the water.
“Owwwwww!” Tucker cried. “Da fuck?! M’drownin’ here! S’not fair!”
A couple of minutes of pulsing water was all it took, then Tucker’s eyes snapped open.
“Okay, okay, I’m done.”
Blake pulled Tucker to his feet…then pulled off Tucker’s sleeveless plaid shirt and sopping Redneck Mullet wig. Apparently Tucker had decided he was this year’s Redneck Hunk! “Now strip,” Blake said, pointing to the Daisy Dukes, wool socks, and scuffed Timberland boots. Tucker readily complied, much to Chad’s surprise, and the two hunks began toweling off their erstwhile trainer.
“S’not fair,” Tucker muttered. Blake and Chad looked at each other. “What’s ‘not fair?’” Blake asked. Tucker glared at him. “You’re so fucking huge!” he spat at Blake, then turned pointed to Chad. “And you’re so fucking ripped!”
Blake and Chad chuckled. “Not this again?” Chad said while wiping down Tucker’s creamy white ass. “Still think we’re over-training?” Blake asked. In a flurry of arms Tucker disentangled himself from the towels.
“And I’m so fucking boned!”
Blake and Chad gaped. Tucker’s legendary 9-incher was at full mast and leaking pre all over Suzie’s extra-fluffy white towels with the gold “SJT” (for “Suzie Jane Thomas,” of course) monogram.
“Goddammit,” Tucker cried. “I thought I was straight! I never a looked at a guy until the two of you came along. And now I can’t get you out of my head!”
Chad wrapped his thick pythons around Tucker’s waist as the latter burst into tears. Eyes agog, Blake suddenly saw that Chad was actually noticeably bigger than their former lust object! If he had to guess, he figured Tucker had lost 10 pounds since the day Blake and Chad had started working out at Muscles in Motion. And it was 10 pounds of muscle, not 10 pounds of fat, since everything was not only just a bit smaller but just a bit softer, too!
“Man, I don’t know what to say,” Blake said, moving in behind Tucker and wrapping his massive arms around Tucker’s neck.
Now sandwiched between the two former nerds, Tucker felt Chad’s gigantic 14-incher climbing up the slinky lycra unitard, the only thing separating it from Tucker’s now somewhat poofy naked abs. Meanwhile, a red hot crow bar—or something like it—was beginning to bounce off his ass cheeks. “Mmmm, are you sure about this?” Chad asked.
Tucker shook his head. “Beats the hell out of me,” he growled. “All I know is that I can’t think of anything but the two of you and being crushed by all of your muscle!” Then he kissed Chad full on the mouth. After a moment of shock, Chad reciprocated enthusiastically, then turned Tucker around to face Blake, whose jaw was clenched.
Oh My God! Tucker thought. I kissed his boyfriend and now I’m gonna die!
Blake’s face broke into a fabulous shit-eating grin! “Mr. Shaw, Mr. Bennett and I have long agreed that you are the hottest thing that’s ever come out of Ottawossamie County. It will be our pleasure to fuck the living daylights out of you!” Tucker’s eyes lit up—it was gonna happen!
“Prepare to be crushed, Little Man!”
Suzie’s sorority sisters were very concerned about the noises that emanated from Suzie’s bedroom for the next three hours. And quite concerned for Suzie herself, of course!
“Are you sure you’re okay?” they kept asking.
The rest of the guests were too embarrassed to say anything at all—they just steered clear of that end of the house! Every once in a while someone would not so surreptitiously bump up the speaker volume on the sound system only to have someone else come right by and turn it back down!
“Truly, I’m fine,” Suzie said, and it was clear that she was. “I’ve said for a long time that the best thing that could happen to Tucker Shaw would be for, well, I don’t suppose I really need to go there.” She laughed out loud.
After all, she thought, They’re going there themselves!
“Don’t you think it’s odd…,” Chad began. Blake snorted. “Do I think it’s odd? Yes, it’s odd. Of course, it’s odd. How could it be anything other than odd?” he replied. Chad rolled his eyes. “You didn’t let me finish…”
Blake shrugged his mountainous shoulders—Chad was always half expecting that an earthquake would ensue! “Yes,” Blake said. “It’s odd that I’ve gained a hundred pounds in the past month. Yes, it’s odd that I weigh 2½ times as much as I did when I started lifting—less than six months ago!” Chad nodded. Considering he’d added 60 pounds of muscle since Halloween—120 pounds since they’d started lifting—he was down on the concept that theirs was unnatural progress!
“I’m also quite aware,” Blake continued, “that I can bench close to 2000 pounds, nearly five times my own weight. Which makes me the strongest man on Earth.” At that, Chad pretended to pout. “Yes, yes,” Blake added. “And you’re the second strongest, at least pound for pound.” Chad’s bench chest personal best was 980 pounds, about a 100 pounds shy of the official world’s record, but also 3½ times his own 280-pound body-weight.
“Then there are the dicks!” Blake exclaimed, his eyes bulging. “Jesus! They’ve both doubled in size! I’m beginning to think I’m going to need to tie mine to my leg just to go out in public. As for yours…” Chad laughed. “Hey, you’re the one who wanted to be a public spectacle,” he pointed out. “And you gotta admit, 400 pounds of muscle and a 14 inch dick are pretty damned spectacular!”
And hot as hell, he thought, as his own 16-inch monster began to stir.
“So what else?” Blake asked.
Chad thought about how to put it. “Aren’t we both a little bit old to be getting taller?” Blake blinked. “Oh, that!” he said. “I looked at my human development textbooks. It’s not completely out of the ordinary for guys to have a late growth spurt in their early 20s.” Chad arched an eyebrow. “Well, yes, I guess it’s not completely unheard of for a 22-year-old male to suddenly grow 2-3 inches taller over the space a few months,” he agreed. “But two guys at the same time? Isn’t that a statistical improbability?”
“It’s all improbable, isn’t it?”
When they had started working out together they’d both been a bit under 6 feet tall—shorter than Tucker Shaw, in other words. Now Chad was 6’1 and Blake was 6’2 and Tucker was looking up at both of them (well, in more ways than one but that went without saying.) “Maybe we have to grow taller to support all this muscle?” Blake asked. Chad gave Blake the raspberry. “If that were the case,” he replied, “all those Mr. Olympia competitors would be NBA stars, wouldn’t they? Except for Arnold I don’t think any of them has ever topped 6 feet!” Blake pursed his lips.
“Tis a puzzlement,” he concluded.
The next day they sat down to turkey dinner with Chad’s parents…and Tucker Shaw and Suzie Thomas.
“What’s going on with those two?” Chad’s mother asked when she and Chad were alone in the kitchen. Chad shook his head. “Beats the hell out of me,” he replied. “They broke up just a couple of weeks before Halloween…but then he got plastered and fell into her punch bowl and he’s been living with her ever since.”
Chad’s mom appeared to take that at face value.
“Oh, well, that’s all right then!” she said cheerily. Chad gave his mother a glance. “You don’t think it’s odd…?” he asked. Mrs. Bennett shook her head. “Oh, couples go through the strangest things, you know! I’m sure it was just a speed bump.”
Whee, Chad thought.
What he hadn’t pointed out to his mother was that even though Tucker was living with Suzie, who had more or less adopted him the way one would a stray kitten, he’d been worshiping at the altar of Blake and Chad since that fateful night. It was at least a weekly ritual, sometimes more often than that. Chad and Blake would go to Suzie’s house…and suck, fuck, lick, nibble, nuzzle, gnaw, and generally man-handle Tucker for a few hours at a time!
With Suzie watching, Chad thought, giving his head an imperceptible shake. His mom, being totally “out there” liberal librarian, thought she was totally modern about sex, having more than once mentioned (much to Chad’s chagrin) her lesbian dalliances as an undergrad. But I don’t know what she’d think about Suzie’s voyeurism—or my exhibitionism!
The plus side was that that first booty call with Tucker had proved to be his wake-up call as well. He plunged back into his training regimen, quickly regained the 10 pounds of muscle he’d lost (thank you, Muscle Memory!), and by dint of incredibly hard work added another 10 pounds in the meantime. At 6 feet and 235 pounds Tucker was in the best shape of his life, and that was saying a lot!
Of course, that’s completely within the bounds of plausible, Chad thought. It’s not like what we’ve been through!
The down side was that Tucker was routinely asking (actually, begging and pleading with) the two massive muscle men to let him move in with them. The first answer was an unqualified NO; the succeeding answers, still NO, were more qualified but the ultimate answer was “Sorry, we’re the team, you’re the friend.” Brutal, perhaps, but despite the repeated rejections Tucker seemed to be thriving.
All these thoughts crossed Chad’s mind in the two minutes it took him to walk from the kitchen counter to the dining room table carrying the awesome golden brown bird on his mom’s favorite vintage embossed aluminum serving platter. Once grace was said and dishes were passed all around, Tucker cleared his throat and tapped his wine glass with his knife.
“Ding, ding, ding!” he said. “I have an announcement.” Blake and Chad glanced at each other. The glance said, Uh oh, what’s he up to now?!
Suzie, however, was looking thoroughly pleased with herself.
“Suzie and I wanted to let you, our best friends, know that come January the two of us are moving to Los Angeles!”
Mrs. Bennett beamed—it had always been her ambition to get out of the snow-belt—while Mr. Bennett looked puzzled. He had always considered Southern California—unlike the Catskills—a cultural wasteland! Chad and Blake gaped. “Together?”
Suzie giggled. “Yes,” she replied. “But first we’re getting married, the day after Christmas, and we’re hoping that all of you will be able to join us.” Mrs. Bennett jumped from her seat to hug Suzie and Tucker. “Isn’t that just grand?!”
Uh, yeah, SURE it is, Chad thought.
Blake was wild-eyed.
What the heck are they thinking?
Mr. Bennett, ever the practical one, asked what they would be doing in Southern California. “More personal training, I take it? Surely there’s a huge market for it there,” he added, sagely.
Tucker blushed while Suzie grinned. “We’re going into the porn business!” she said. “We have the looks, we have the skills and talent, and I’ve always wanted to be a movie producer.”
Blake and Chad both choked on their chardonnay.
“Outstanding,” Mr. Bennett said, pounding his son-in-law on the back. Mrs. Bennett was dabbing at Chad who had managed to upset the gravy boat while attempting to catch his breath. “Isn’t this exciting?” Mrs. Bennett exclaimed. “To think we’ll know someone in the porn industry!”
For the next hour Suzie and Tucker regaled Chad’s parents with their plans for the wedding, the move, and their new career, giving long perorations regarding the competing merits of straight and gay porn and various production houses. Chad wasn’t sure whether he was more appalled by their descriptions or the fact that his parents seemed to be quite knowledgeable regarding the workings of the porn industry. Blake sat there dumbstruck the entire time, barely touching his food (astounding in its own right considering the big man’s usual daily food consumption was generally equivalent to that of a small Ethiopian village.)
At last dessert (Blake’s killer kabocha pumpkin pie and Chad’s equally delicious mincemeat pie were the stars) and coffee were finished and Tucker and Suzie made their goodbyes, which included Tucker tonguing both Blake and Chad in full view of Suzie and Chad’s parents. Blake and Chad helped Chad’s parents clear the table, then his mother shooed them away.
“You two look exhausted,” she said, putting the emphasis on exhausted in just such a way that she clearly meant horny!
Blake nodded. “Really, we are exhausted, Mrs. B,” he said. “Killer workout this morning and now we’re totally stuffed. Thank you soooo much!”
More like emotionally exhausted, Chad that. And he didn’t touch his food!
Exhausted or not, physically or emotionally or not, Blake and Chad fucked like bunnies when they got home. Even though by that point Blake outweighed him by 120 pounds, Chad picked his lover up from behind and fucked him in the air, first time he’d managed to do that. Blake returned the favor and then spent 10 minutes curling Chad’s 280 pounds one-handed.
“Babe, it’s not foreplay when we’ve both already cum,” Chad said at last. Blake, looking hurt, put him down. “You don’t like?” Chad pointed at his dick. It was full mast again and leaking copious pre. “I love it, of course! But I can’t stop thinking!”
Blake sat on the bed. “I know what you mean,” he agreed. “My mind has been racing the entire time. What in the hell are they thinking?” Chad put his thick paws on Blake’s insanely thick delts.
“I mean, don’t you think it’s odd…” Blake continued. Chad chuckled as he climbed onto Blake’s lap, their 30 inches worth of cock doing the cha-cha while they talked. “That’s my line,” Chad pointed out. “Don’t wear it out.” Blake kissed Chad’s mouth, then his neck. “And you know what the really weird thing is?” Chad drew back and looked his lover in the eyes.
“You mean the fact that no one—absolutely no one—has noticed what has happened to us?”
It was true. Not their parents, not their colleagues, not Suzie, not the people at the gym, or at the grocery store. “Well, Tucker noticed,” Blake corrected. Chad nodded.
“Yes, but doesn’t make it even weirder? That the only person in the world who has noticed that we’ve turned into two rampaging hulks is our former straight as an arrow lust object personal trainer who is now essentially our sex slave but who is going to marry his former girlfriend…?”
Blake coughed. “And current dominatrix, perhaps?” Chad shook his head and then impaled himself on Blake’s 14 x 12 massiveness. “I just don’t know what they’re thinking,” he said, riding up and down Blake’s improbable tool. Blake’s squinted his eyes. “It’s giving me a headache,” he agreed. Chad stopped mid-stroke. “Don’t stop!” Blake urged. “Right now this is the only thing I understand!”
Amen to that, Chad thought!
They rode each other the rest of the night. The dawn found them snoring, Blake’s massive bubble butt impaled on Chad’s giant tool, Chad’s hand on Blake’s still rock hard and quivering cock, all cares erased from their improbably handsome faces.
And then it was Christmas…
Tucker Shaw looked up at the mountain range in front of him. With his hands on Blake Porter’s narrow hips, his mouth struggling with Blake’s 16-inch cock, all Tucker could see was muscle, huge, dense, thick, incredibly hard muscle. Blake’s magnificent torso loomed over him like an aircraft carrier over a dinghy or Mount Everest over the Catskills’ gently rounded hills. Blake was now nearly as wide as he was tall, packing an insane 550 pounds of muscle on his 6 foot 3 inch frame. He outweighed Tucker, who had managed to pack on another 10 pounds and at 245 pounds was the heaviest he’d ever been, by 300 pounds!
Tucker’s ass was impaled on Chad Bennett’s mind-blowing 18-inch cock. Staring at the pecs jutting out a good 10 inches over Blake’s boulder-sized abs, Tucker wiggled his butt, causing Chad to groan with pleasure. As a special treat—a Christmas present, in fact—Blake and Chad had invited Tucker to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at their place, the first time they’d actually had sex with the little man at some place other than Suzie’s.
“Are you sure Suzie won’t mind?” Blake had asked when Tucker all but suggested it.
Tucker just laughed. “It was her idea, silly,” he said. “She’s going to be too busy getting the house ready for the wedding.”
About that…Chad had had a long heart to heart with Suzie the week after Thanksgiving. “Are you sure…?” Suzie nodded vigorously. “What you don’t understand is that you are the only men on Earth he’s interested in,” she explained. “All the rest of the time he’s totally into women and, more precisely, totally into me! Before Halloween, being in bed with Tucker was meh at best. Since then I’ve been having the best sex of my life!”
Chad just blinked. Well, she always did say the only thing he needed was to get fucked by someone hotter than he was. And he and Blake were certainly that. Since Thanksgiving Chad, for the first time, had nearly kept up with Blake’s muscle growth, gaining 4 pounds a day to Blake’s 5 pounds a day. At 6’2 and 400 pounds, Chad outweighed mass monsters like Derek Poundstone and Gabe Moen by 50 or 60 pounds, and unlike them he had a freakishly low 3% body fat ratio! All of which Chad recalled as he was busily pounding Tucker’s squat butt like a piece of concrete with his jackhammer cock.
“Okay, time for something different,” he declared, returning to the moment. He pulled Tucker off Blake’s dick, cradled Tucker’s head and shoulders with his 34-inch upper arms, and swung around so that his massive bubble butt was pointing at Blake. “I’m ready for the Love Train, babe!”
With a whoooompf that shook the house, Blake picked up Chad with Tucker still grinding Chad’s 18-inch crowbar. Together the two of them weighed nearly 650 pounds, only a hundred pounds more than Blake did, and he handled the two of them like rag dolls, his 60-inch quads bearing all of the weight. They’d had the bedroom floors specially reinforced for just this moment. Chad didn’t trust the 70-year-old house to manage 1200 pounds of man-flesh fucking into one spot! He and Blake alone were closing in on half a ton and the last time they’d tried “mid-air fucking,” as Blake called, they dislodged the chandelier in the dining room below!
All the while, Tucker was singing “Santa Baby…” They hurried down his chimney that night!
The service was lovely and Blake and Chad catered the reception themselves, offering it as their wedding present to the happy couple. They watched, still somewhat puzzled by it all despite Suzie’s explanation, as the newlyweds did their first turn around the dance floor and then were quickly joined by the dance crowd.
“Well, I’ll take Suzie’s word for it,” Blake said. “But don’t you think it’s odd…” Suddenly the music and the dancers stopped, frozen in mid-step, and the two giant muscle hulks were bathed in a radiant magenta-hued light.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, enough with the ‘don’t you think it’s odd’ already!” The booming voice—a curious blend of Liberace and George Will—filled the room, seeming to come from all directions at once. Except for Blake and Chad, everyone was oblivious (and still frozen.)
“Uh,” Blake said. “Santa?”
The booming voice tittered, which was in itself an odd effect.
“Uh,” Chad said. “God?”
Suspended above the dance floor on a ray of magenta light, what appeared to be a middle-aged, huskily-built, fuzzy, bespectacled man wearing a cable-knit cardigan peered down at Blake and Chad from the space-age Herman Miller office chair upon which he perched. “The name’s McGuffin,” the man said. “Roger McGuffin, and I’m neither God nor Santa Claus, although it seems I do have it in my power, on occasion, to alter reality, especially if I’m bestowing gifts.”
Chad cleared his throat.
“Well, then, now that we know who you are, just what are you?”
McGuffin grinned hugely and his eyes twinkled.
“I’m the author, of course!”
Chan and Blake gaped!
McGuffin rolled his eyes. “The author, of course,” he said. “The one writing your story. About your improbable muscle growth and all the rest.” Fortunately, Blake and Chad were both science fiction fans and well-acquainted with the Many Universes theory. “You mean like Heinlein?” Blake asked. McGuffin snorted. “That old egotist!” Blake started to take umbrage, then thought better of it.
“Well, what about Scalzi?” Chad inquired. McGuffin chortled. “Good thing you don’t wear Red Shirts, huh?” Except for the fact that he weighed 400 pounds of muscle and his 44-inch quads (the sames size as Blake’s biceps, interestingly enough) were so thick his knees couldn’t possibly touch, much less knock, Chad felt a shiver run down his spine.
“C’mon, let’s sit down and talk,” McGuffin said, aiming his floating chair at one of the empty tables in the corner. “Maybe you’ve got something to drink?” Chad grabbed a bottle of vodka, Blake palmed a liter of cranberry juice, and dodging the still frozen dancers they made their way to the table and sat down with the old coot.
“The fact is,” McGuffin said. “I don’t know how it works. I was just typing away, trying to figure out what comes next, and then here I was suspended over the dance floor…” Blake and Chad looked at each other. “So (1) I’m dreaming, or (2) Someone knocked me over the head, or (3) I had a stroke, or (4) The ‘Anything That Can Be Imagined Really Could Happen Because There Are An Infinite Number of Universes’ theory really does work,” McGuffin concluded. “Personally, I’m hoping it’s (4) because (1), (2), and (3) don’t bear thinking about!”
Chad handed McGuffin a Cosmo and made one for himself. Blake took the vodka bottle and chugged. “So what now?” Blake asked, ever practical. “Are you going to do something bad to us?” Chad inquired, his fists clenching. “And what about free will?” Blake continued.
McGuffin took a sip of the Cosmo, then set it down.
“Has anything happened that you didn’t want to happen?” Did you feel compelled in any way? Were you displeased with the results?”
The inhumanly handsome men looked at each other. They were bigger than they ever imagined possible and even though Chad had started out saying he “didn’t want to get big” that had lasted all of about five minutes. Every pound of muscle he gained, another pound of muscle he wanted. Even Tucker…
“Well, what about Tucker and Suzie?” Chad demanded.
McGuffin twiddled his thumbs.
“What about them? They look happy to me!”
Blake put his hand in Chad’s.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m not complaining,” he said, his free hand making a circle that encompassed all of them. “The muscle is more than I ever could have imagined but it’s more than that: you, from the moment I met you, are more than I ever could have imagined.” Chad blushed. “You know I feel the same way,” he agreed.
They looked at McGuffin.
“But do you have power over us?” Chad asked.
McGuffin pursed his lips. “My guess is ‘no,’” he replied. “I think my ‘writing’ your story was just, I dunno, transcription work. I really couldn’t say if the idea became you reality or your reality became my idea.” He paused and then grinned. “Does it really matter?”
Blake and Chad looked at each other…and smiled.
“No!” they chorused.
“As for what’s next, well, that’s up to the two of you,” he continued. “I don’t have any grand ideas, or a spare rocket shop floating around my imagination, and besides, I’m heading to South America in a couple of days for a two-week cruise. My guess is that the two of you haven’t really given much thought as to what you’re going to do with the two biggest, strongest, most muscular, best-built, handsomest bodies your world has ever seen. Porn, bodybuilding, world domination, the sky’s the limit!”
Blake’s and Chad’s eyes flew open.
“And I have it on good authority you’re well-connected with two people who are likely to change the porn industry forever,” McGuffin said. “They just need to get a couple of game-changers on board!” Chad looked at Blake. “I think he’s talking about us,” Chad said. Blake laughed. “I think he’s talking about the anaconda in your pants!” Chad blushed. “Or maybe your mountain-range shoulders? Or the 110-inch chest?”
The music and the dancing resumed and McGuffin slowly faded from view. When the music stop, Tucker and Suzie came to thank their two best friends for the wonderful catering! “We have a proposal we’d like the two of you to consider,” Suzie said. “We think you’ll like it,” Tucker added. “It involves warm weather, working out, and lots of sex!”
A new story was about to begin.