As soon as he walked in the door, Ben was immediately hit with Melissa, draping herself all over him, physically and verbally, asking in that cutesy voice he hated, to go right back out and spend the evening at the mall with her, shopping with her for the baby gift she needed to buy for Sarah’s shower this weekend. They could eat dinner out at that pizza place in the mall she liked.
Ben’s immediate refusal was the spark that fully ignited Melissa’s long-simmering anger.
Ben, a good-looking, athletic, twenty-something had just returned home from a long session at the gym. That in itself — these outrageously long amounts of time he spent working out lately, almost daily now — had kept her seething almost the whole while she'd been alone in the apartment. So, her anger having been primed like that, it was no wonder she flared up loud and bitchy instantly, like a struck match, when he pleaded exhaustion from a seriously tough workout.
This deep, explosive, all-consuming anger of Melissa’s had been brewing for a few weeks. It wasn’t just him neglecting her so much, choosing the gym over her, it was more and more about the boy, this now-regular work-out partner Ben found last month, the boy Melissa was obsessed with now because Ben was obsessed with him now.
She’d been trying to allay her suspicions, telling herself lots of dudes into serious fitness like Ben had gym buddies, but that rationalization had rung increasingly hollow.
The time they spend together now — Ben and this teen-age boy! not even a dude his own age! — was suspicious enough to Melissa, but Ben was also way too effusive about the boy, talking about him so excitedly, so often — especially when he’d rave about “how damn ripped” the “sexy-ass” dude’s “smoking hot body” was, all that “hella hot muscle.”
So Melissa decided to lace her tirade that afternoon with cheap, leering, innuendo-drenched aspersion, taunting Ben, sneeringly wondering just why it might be that he was spending twice as much time lately with his work-out buddy — a boy in his teens! — than he was with her.
"You sure seem a hell of a lot more interested in him than you do in me, Ben! You talk about how hot his body is constantly! And you two aren't just doing gym dates all the time any more, now you've even started going out with him after your workouts! Been wondering for a while now if there’s anything you’d like to tell me. Hmmmm, babe? You boys started fucking yet? Can he suck your cock as good as your girlfriend?”
Ben got furious, bristling with shame — she was kind of right, of course, but that wasn’t really the point. So what if he loved the thrill he got, being physically intimate while training with Hart? And of course he’d admit it was a sexual thrill, lusting after him in the gym and the sauna and shower, but that’s what made it so bracing and addictive. But he’s never made a pass at Hart, of course, nor has Hart ever made a pass at him.
So can’t he just enjoy the incredible rush of pleasure he gets from having his first really close, intimate, personal male friendship? One made so much stronger because it was a male closeness based in the body, in working their bodies, admiring each other’s body. That was something he’d never had before with another male, and it was magnificent.
The sad truth was that what Ben had found with Hart — bonding over men’s bodies and beauty together — just that was decidedly a far more fulfilling a physical friendship for Ben that what he’d had for the past half-year with Melissa. They ogle each other and worship muscle and talk about their bodies, the bodies of the other dudes in the gym or the bodies of the boys in the bar they go to all the time now, after their workout. It’s amazing talking about boy’s beauty with a gorgeous young gay boy — insanely exciting. To talk frankly about handsomeness, about boy’s faces and bodies and cock and ass and muscle — things Ben thinks about al the time. These have been some of the most exciting weeks of Ben’s life.
So sure he’s spending a lot of time with Hart. Amazing time.
Lately they’ve been hanging out together, after the gym, at this amazing gay bar Hart likes to go to, for a beer or two after their workout. Ben loved going there — cool space, and the dudes there were all into muscle — it was like going from gym to gym. Ben loved being a hot straight dude in a bar full of hip, hot, good-looking, hard-bodied gay hotties. Complete rush for him. Ben loved that Hart wanted to turn him on to place, loved that they’ve agreed to make it their regular thing after a workout.
So Ben was pissed. Knowing she wasn’t even half-right. He’d found an amazing, once-in-a-life time bud. And the stuff they did together was bro-stuff — working out and knocking back a few. He admits the sexual charge, as well — dudes are sexually complex, what else is new? And Ben’s obsession was almost chaste, it was so pure. Just starry-eyed bro-worship. But even with it being non-sexual, it was far more meaningful, physically, than what he had with Melissa.
He had every right to a great friendship, and he wasn’t going to be made to feel guilty for enjoying it and spending as much time with his bro as he could.
He sneered at her, proper-pissed.
"You're just jealous of my body, of how good I look. Hot enough to attract a super-fit young dude, into serious muscle, into being my work-out partner.”
Indeed, Ben did look good — fitness-model handsome, with blonde hair he kept close-cropped, a permanent beard-scruff accenting his rugged features, and a physique of hard, rippling muscle he's carved to lean perfection. His obsession with his body, with sculpting it to the classic male ideal of beauty, has made him a gym regular, one who loves the stares he gets all the time from the other guys in the locker room and showers.
So, stung that she’d tease the secret of his same-sex attraction, but refusing to even try to defend himself, dignify her low insinuations by trying to explain the complexity of his feelings for Hart, and suddenly not wanting to spend any more time with her right now, in her weird, mean mood, Ben stormed out, without even changing out of his sweaty gym clothes, heading straight to Hart’s place for consolation and another chance to spend some time with his bro — and hopefully a place to spend the night while he and Melissa cooled off.
Ben was very into his friend Hart — a ridiculously handsome, excitingly out gay male. Ben had never seen at all what importance Hart’s sexuality would have to Melissa, and so the issue had never come up. Besides, who even cares about that any more?
It was such a kick, too, that Hart was so much younger -- nineteen, just out of high school, but already supporting himself doing HVAC work. For a young’un, the boy’s life was a lot more together than Ben’s currently was.
It was very cool and natural the way they'd met. Ben noticed this good-looking dude one day at his gym (tough guy not to notice, his body is exceptional). From that day, he started seeing him around all the time. Hart must have noticed him, too, because the two young men started nodding to each other. Hart came up to him one day, while Ben was lifting, and struck up a conversation, pointing out how they seem to work out same time, same days.
The two guys clicked instantly, and Ben suggested they finish the rest of their routine together that day. Then they both hit the sauna together, where each remarked on how beautifully toned the other's body was. They started complimenting on specific areas each felt the other had sculpted to perfection, making almost ridiculously perfect-looking. It was so cool that day, for Ben, talking so descriptively and excitedly about another boy’s body, trying to capture his his powerful beauty in words.
As they both grew more confident in their talk that day, alone in the steamy intimacy, Hart acknowledged, as off-hand as he could, the impressive size and shape of Ben's cock.
Ben immediately returned the favor. If he’d never commented on the beauty of another boy’s body to him before, he’d never dared talk about another dude's dick. But Ben had found it no problem at all — a pleasure, in fact — to praise what a long, thick, uncut beauty Hart was packing.
By that time Hart had made it clear he was gay, so Ben grinned and added, "Bet the dudes really go for a stud-cock like that?”
Hart smiled shyly and admitted they did indeed.
Their talk turned to the gym and their schedules and their routines. Each boy smirked to see the other boy frankly ogling his muscle and cock while they chatted. Ben confessed he’d been looking to up his training to five days a week, so he could really target specific muscle groups, start getting even more ripped. Tuned out Hart had had the same idea.
They decided at once to train together daily, both excited to have a work-out buddy to keep them focused on their training. Their shower that day was amazing, one of the best gym-showers ever for Ben.
And ever since then, Ben looked forward to watching his young friend soap up that gorgeous body of his, and his days had been flush with the thought of working out with this amazing dude on a daily basis.
Their intense friendship formed immediately. They loved being around each other, loved looking at each other. That exhilaration in each other's company had quickly led to beers at Miss John’s after their workout and getting together on the weekends, when they wouldn’t see each other at the gym.
These past three weeks had been the best — they’d started distance running together, did a great bike ride along the river last weekend, and had gone out for dinner a couple nights and a movie once. Ben could see why Melissa was getting angry — because they were changing, their relationship was changing, and it would have to adapt or die.
Melissa’s problem was that she didn’t have a friend like Hart, that was part of her jealousy — envious of the deeply satisfying bro-mance her boyfriend has found, with a very cool, very good-looking young muscle-stud.
But every dude needs a best bud, right? A running buddy? It was so damn hip and exciting Hart was gay. Ben had never hung out with a gay man before, hadn't realized what an interesting, energetic, masculine aura a young gay jock like Hart had. It was sort of intoxicating. They'd laugh and joke all the times, after talking about how hot a dude’s body was, salaciously describing what kind of scorching-hot sex they’d like to have with him. Ben loved it, loved role-playing man-on-man sex like that, got such a rush from it.
He imagined raunchy sex like that with Hart all the damn time now. It was easy to have vivid j/o fantasies of his bro, in bed at night after Melissa fell asleep, because Hart was so vividly, so memorably good-looking.
He had a sort of dusky-bronze tan, with an intense, bad-boy surfer sexiness, helped by a scruffy blonde chinstache, which Ben thought looked awesome. His long, dirty-blond hair hangs to his shoulders, in a fashion-model, gay-preppie way that Ben finds handsome as hell. He's always got it pulled back in a pony tail when he lifts.
His physique is amazing: he's been lifting since he was fourteen and has a lean, perfectly chiseled body, with an eight-pack Ben envies. And Ben can never take his eyes off Hart's cock in the showers or sauna. It's about the same size as Ben's, seven-plus inches, and while they're both uncut, Ben's foreskin covers about four-fifths of his cockhead, while Hart's hood covers his whole head, a half-inch or so drooping over the tip.
His styler, sense, too, is very gay sexy — tight Ts, tight jeans, and bracelets of silver and leather and cloth. For someone so young, he’s erudite as hell — he can talk knowledgeably about art and politics, always giving off a heady, intellectual vibe, to which Ben really responds (one of the the things he could never get over about Melissa was how vapid she could be).
Ben loves that his running buddy is even hotter-looking than he is. The two of them are always the best-looking dudes wherever they are. The hot young waiters and older muscle-stud bartenders at Miss Johns, as well as the hot muscle-dude receptionists at the gym, always assume they're a couple, which always gets Ben hard.
Sometimes Hart will even do things like put his arm around his friend's waist when they're walking, turning to him, smiling. Ben loves it, loves being able to be so physical and intimate with such a hot-looking dude. It's not at all sexual. Like the shoulder rubs he's started giving Hart, which his friend really loves.
Ben had never yet been to Hart’s place, they always left separately in their trucks from either the gym or the bar. He was excited to see it, excited to see his friend. He texted his bro as soon as he found a space on the street to park. Hart told him to come on up.
Hart opened the door for his friend wearing just sweatpants, no shirt — no jock even, Ben immediately noticed.
He told Ben he'd been just about to do some yoga stretches, after they’d pushed each other so hard during their work out earlier, but he’d put them on hold.
Ben was tingling inside with what was happening here, his coming over like this, where they can be alone together. It marked such a cool, new stage in their relationship. Hart looked excited, too.
Ben immediately commented on what a very hip apartment his bro had, all the while trying unsuccessfully not to stare at his friend's naked, beautifully cut upper body.
Hart offered him a beer, which soon turned into a couple.
There's always such deep, barely tamped-down cruising between the two of them now, Ben thought pleasingly, as he gave an emotionally-wrought recount of the fight he’d just had with Melissa — as well as lots of carping in general about how awful life had been with her lately.
Midway through his third beer, feeling buzzed and horny, Ben began a rant on how rotten his sex life was.
The thought of a sexually frustrated Ben got Hart excited, optimistic. He’d been trying to seduce his beautifully sculpted workout partner for weeks — steadily grooming him, trying to turn the maddeningly straight stud, waiting for him to fall like a piece over beautifully ripe fruit — but Hart had waited for Ben to make the first actual move, out of respect for his friend’s relationship with his girlfriend.
Now, though, it looked like his girlfriend thing was in the rear-view mirror, and the fun might finally start.
The first move, Hart knew, was to get the dude naked, so he suggested Ben take a shower to relax and clear his head. Ben was all for it.
Hart showed him to the bathroom, got him a towel, and politely exited, leaving the door open.
Ben stripped off most of his workout gear, then turned on the shower and waited for it to get hot. While waiting, he suddenly stormed out of the bathroom, his still-seething anger heightened by the beers, to make another point about how unfair Melissa was being about his time at the gym and seeing his bro.
Whether consciously or not, Ben left the bathroom in just his jock, an irresistible sight to his young gay friend — like having a live porn show appear in his living room. Hart tried a sudden inspiration to keep his friend out of the bathroom for a while longer, so he could gaze on Ben’s beautifully defined abs, lickably thick delts and pecs, and that huge, bulging jock-pouch.
"Hey, have you stretched yet, Ben? I was going to, while you took your shower, but you wanna join me first?”
Ben loved the athletic intimacy with Hart at the gym, so he readily agreed, dashing back to the bathroom to turn off the shower and coming back in less than thirty seconds.
Hart whipped his sweatpants off in one quick swoop, and Ben's breath caught in his throat, his eyes riveting on the gorgeous display of naked male perfection revealed before him. The sight of Hart’s long, luscious, foreskin-sheathed cock had him feeling especially light-headed.
Hart tried to make his voice as casually seductive as he could.
"I always stretch nude at home. Ever try it? You'd dig it, bro. Totally zen-sensual. Gets you super in touch with your body, allows you to visualize the muscles so much more.”
"Sounds good.”
Ben was way turned on at this bold, exciting new level of daring in their relationship.
As they stretched, Ben was still pissed about his girlfriend and felt the need to vent to his bud. He was mostly still embarrassed about Melissa’s snide insinuation that he was hot for his bro, but he didn't dare bring that up, so he just complained instead about their lack of a sex life.
Hart was delighted to be able to talk about sex with his hot bud, especially about how Ben should be getting more of it.
"So how often do you fuck?"
Sitting on the floor, inches from his friend, Ben grunted in disgust as he flexed his beautifully worked body forward to stretch his hamstrings.
"Oh, like maybe twice a month. Three times if I'm lucky."
His friend stared at him, horrified.
"Are you shitting me, dude? Doesn't she understand male sexuality? A dude's basic masculine need? Hell, dawg, don't mean to boast, but I fuck two or three times some days."
"Thank you! See what I mean? She has absolutely no understanding of a young man's sexuality."
"No shit! I mean, especially athletic male sexuality! When you've got a body as strong and ripped and beautifully worked as yours, you need to work that shit, dude! Two or three times a month? That’s fucking nuts! It’d be like having a Porsche and only using it a couple times a month to drive to the corner and buy groceries."
Hart ran a hand sensuously down his own chest and abs, then flexed his biceps.
"Shit, I oughta know. Bodies like ours are built for serious fucking."
"Damn straight! You know, I'm gonna have to lay down some ground-rules when I go back to her. Dude, I spill so much fuckin' seed jackin' to porn, I'm almost embarrassed to tell you! Damn, I really need to just find myself someone who likes fucking as much as I do!"
Bingo, Hart thought smugly, here we go!
"Hell yes! You need to get laid, bro — like, instantly. And on the regular. I’m talkin’ daily! Shit, a dude as hot as you can get anybody he wants. No joke -- I get so much ass, Ben, I’m like a pig in shit. I'm talking seriously hot dudes, too. And you're twice as hot as I am."
They finished their serious stretching, which began to include much frank ogling and cooing over each other's impressive musculature, beautifully revealed in their nakedness.
After a few minutes of cool-down stretches, Hart winked at Ben and smiled slyly, letting his hand play lightly down his bro's cut upper body.
"Damn, dawg, you are too fuckin’ hot! If you were gay, bro? Like me? Shit, dude, you'd never have a dry spell again."
Ben just blushed, secretly excited inside. He could feel his dick throb and start to stiffen.
Cool-down over, Hart got another brainstorm.
"Hey, how about a hit or two of dope before you hit the shower?"
Ben loved pot. He rarely smoked it because Melissa couldn’t stand the smell.
They ended up doing two bowls of some very kick-ass weed, passing the pipe, sitting close to each other on the couch, muscular thighs touching, cocks growing thick, engorged. They eye-flirted like crazy — looking at each other in stoned pleasure, smiling hungrily.
Hart idly began stroking his own semi-hard cock as they took turns taking hits.
Afterward, bodies pumped from their yoga routine and both blissfully buzzing on pot, their engorged cocks swinging, Hart took the lead again.
“Bro, cool if I join you in the shower? I never got mine in after our workout. I can do your back, and you can do mine."
“Hell yeah!”
As they headed to the bathroom, they immediately got into a sort of prep-school locker-room spirit of loud horseplay, slapping asses and drawing attention to each other's stiffening dicks.
Hart got the shower nice and steamy. Ben was stoned and pumped and horny as fuck. He loved that he and Hart could flaunt their seriously boned dicks to each other. This was awesome bro-chilling, he thought to himself.
They stepped into the shower and began some serious soaping, excited to be able to wash each other’s hard-carved muscle, which they never could do in their gym.
Hart went to work on his friend, scrubbing his back slowly, luxuriantly, worshipping his friend's muscle, as he listened to his friend continue to vent about his lousy sex life. Hart could only take Ben's plaint now as a way of begging his gay friend to make a pass.
He washed Ben's shoulders sensuously, then reached around to soap up that beautifully carved chest, letting his own jutting hardness press casually but firmly against Ben's ass and hips as he turned the soaping into very frank foreplay.
Ben immediately stopped complaining and, under an enveloping tide of dope, shower spray, and homoerotic allure, fully submitted to the bliss of Hart's sensually insistent touch. He moaned in pleasure as Hart playfully traced each nipple, purring as he tweaked each nip into raging hardness.
Hart grooved on his successful seduction. He let sudsy hands glide up and down over Ben's carved washboard, wedging his raging-hard cock into the sudsy crack of his handsome friend's smooth, round ass.
Hart finally lowered his soapy hands to Ben's beautifully round, firm buttocks, rubbing the dimpled cheeks in a deep, soap-slick rhythm, letting his thumbs go ever deeper into Ben's ass-crack on each soapy stroke.
That was the tipping point for the two friends, the moment when the veil was fully pulled aside.
Hart cooed hypnotically as he worships Ben's firm, muscular glutes. It was time to show his bro a much better future.
"Seriously, dude, whether you go back to Melissa or not, what you need is a male lover. A fuck buddy who can help you with a dude's basic drives. Trust me, no one knows how to pleasure a dude like another dude."
Voice hoarse now with excitement at his bro's sensual fondling, Ben finally confessed his deepest desire.
"I gotta say, bro, I thought about that a lot. For years now. Especially lately. I watch a ton of gay porn, and fuck does that shit ever look hot."
Hart began soaping up Ben's crack in slow, deep, sensuously overt lust, his slick finger entering his bro's virgin pucker, giving his friend what they both needed.
Ben, ecstatic that things had finally gotten to where he’d been too shy up to now to take them, let a deep, grunting moan erupt from the center of his being.
"FUCK YEAH, man! Work that fucking ass!! Fuck, Hart, that feels amazing!"
Finger-fucking his bud's ass with two fingers now, Hart brought a soaped-up hand around to jack Ben's thick, fully erect cock.
His previously straight friend's pleasure-groans erupted out of him like a pious, reverent prayer of salvation.
"Jesus Fuck! Oh, fuck yeah, bro! This is so fuckin' hot!"
As he sensuously jacked Ben's cock, Hart started to play his own stiff, soaped-up prick up and down in Ben's sudsy crack, teasing him with the pleasure to come.
When his friend's hard, thick dick was sufficiently lathered, Hart sensuously caressed it at first, fondling his big ball-sac, too, tenderly, reverently, like it was a beautiful, precious objet d'art. He got more aggressive and really started jacking his friend's cock.
Ben was in heaven. His friend's hand on his cock was doing amazing things, giving him un-dreamed of pleasure. Melissa never played with his foreskin like this, like how he played with it himself -- Hart pulled it, pinched it, then slid his finger underneath the hood, tracing the head, while stroking the shaft and teasing his balls. He dug his finger into the piss-slit, working it around, driving Ben crazy.
"Fuck yeah, bro! Feels so fucking good! Jack that fuckin' cock! You don't know how long I've wanted this to happen with us, dude."
Hart brought his lips next to his friend's ear.
"I think I do, man. About as long as I've wanted it."
Then he softly turned Ben's head towards him, so their lips could seal their lust in a smoldering kiss.
Afterward, Ben just gazed into Hart's eyes with a look of unbridled desire.
"Fuck, man, feels so fucking good, finally being with you like this, bro. I think all the time at the gym how fucking gorgeous you are, Hart. So damn sexy. So fucking hot. But I've just been too shy, I guess. I go home after our workouts together and just daydream about your hot fucking body while I jerk off. AW, shit, man, I'm cumming, bro! FUCK! I'm cumming so fucking hard!!"
"Fuck yeah! Shoot for me, bro!"
Ben erupted -- five, six, seven creamy shots -- then collapsed back onto his friend, their wet, hard, glistening bodies gliding against each other, hard muscle feeling so good rubbing against hard muscle.
Hart's cock has kept gliding up and down Ben's crack the whole time he jacked his buddy, like an engine idling, ready to go. He smiled knowingly at his friend's blissfully exhausted pleasure, while anticipating his own imminent joy, gazing down the front of Ben's beautifully sculptured body, loving how smooth and lusciously carved it is, thinking how sexy it will feel as he strokes it while fucking him.
His friend and he were riding the same sexual wave of body-lust, he knew. Ben looked back at him and dreamily whispered his deepest desire.
"Fuck me, dude! Fuck this hot fuckin’ muscle-ass. My hole has been so fucking hot and itchy, for so damn long, ready to take dick!”
He reached back to stroke his friend's hard, thick length.
"Especially this absolutely gorgeous cock of yours, man! Please, dude, I need a hard, serious fuck so fucking badly! Bust my cherry, bro! I want it so damn bad!"
It felt so good for Ben to take the plunge finally, to give voice to his long-simmering lust, to own his desire at long last, to luxuriate like this in his attraction to gorgeous young men, to feel it so deep inside.
They took a break later — more pot, more beers — recharging for the next of several more go-rounds that evening.
When Hart asked Ben if he needed a place to stay permanently, Ben jumped at the offer.
They made plans, laughing and excited like giddy school boys. They were boyfriends — they didn’t even need to say the words, they were too busy celebrating the reality.
They decided not to waste time — tomorrow they’d move all Ben’s stuff over.
Another round of fucking, just because that was their life now.
Ben took another load up his ass after being railed by his young lover’s amazing cock. Ben cleaned Hart cock’s off, loving to serve his lover, thrilled to own his desire — own it so perfectly, with such a smoking hot boy.
Ben felt like he’d averted a fatal crash tonight, escaping with his life — a glorious life, he saw now. He’d been way too deep into living a lie with girls all his life. Thank the gods he’d been able to get out while he was still a virile young man!
They stood in the kitchen, worshipping each other’s muscle, as Hart brewed them some tea. Ben’s phone sounded with a text. It was Melissa, all sorry and lovey-dovey, telling him to please hurry home, she missed his big dick — ‘SO BAD, lover!’
Ben showed the message to Hart, and they both laughed at the girl’s cluelessness. Ben told Hart they’d have to be bare-chested tomorrow when they packed up his shit — flaunting their hard bodies, their hard-bodied lust, kissing and talking flirty the whole time they worked.
Then — an inspiration from Ben: as they packed up his clothes in his bedroom, they could 69 and fuck on the bed he’d shared for the past six months, being loud and raunchy enough for Melissa to hear, maybe even burst in on them. Hart readily agreed, eyes bright at the thought. He knelt down to suck his bro off while the tea steeped.
