BUTT PAIN


It wasn't my idea.  The guy I'm shacking up with, his name is
Gerald, insisted I join his college athletic club so that I could
become "a man".  Hell, I knew I was all man -- 100% beef.  But,
Gerald heard I was hanging out with the wrong crowd, snorting
coke at and hustling tricks. He heard right and I sure didn't want
to give it up.

There just ain't much you and do when some guy's paying your
rent.  Gerald's worth about $20 million and I'd be a fool to blow
this deal.  I told him I'd join his crusty old club and make an
effort at being more sociable-like, but to tell you the truth, I
never understood the need to work out.  I was all-male--if you
judge manhood by the size of your dick.  Shit, my prick was so
big I was thinking of regitering it to vote.  But I'd let my body
go.  I was so skinny, my bones jutted out of my skin and the only
thing I could lift without straining myself was a couple of bills
out of Gerald's wallet.

My first day at the Club, I went straight to the gym.  Wasn't
much of one.  The space only had a Universal and some floor
weights.  I couldn't figure out how to use anything, so I sat
down and lit a Marlboro.  Some asshole told me to put it out.

I turned around to see what jerk had yelled at me and the only
fucker there was this big stud who looked like Arnol
Schwarzenegger, except this guy was good looking.

"You can't smoke in the gym, kid," he said approaching me.

"Who says?" I shot back.

The dude glared at me.  I got a good look at his six foot three
body.  His long torso stretched from full muscular legs up to a
huge chest that defied gravity.  His "pecs" were so fat and round
I swear they looked like Dolly Parton's tits.  The thought
crossed my mind that maybe they'd be hot to suck -- yeah, I
wondered what this big stud would do if I was to clamp my mouth
down like a suction cup on his nipple and lick his titties.  I
was getting a hard boner thinking about it.

"Who the hell are you, you stinkin' little punk," he spat out.

I told him who I was.  "My name's Skip Towne, muscle-head.  Wanna
make something of it?"

"Skip Towne?  Are you Gerald's friend?" he asked.

"That's right, mother fucker.  So lay off."

"We don't talk like that here at the Club, Skip.  And we don't
allow smoking.  Gerald has hired me to work out with you,
although you look like you belong in a punk rock band, not in a
gym.?

"Oh Goody!" I replied sarcastically.  "I promise to work real
hard so that I can look just like you."  I eyed his huge frame
and imagined what he would look like naked.  "What's your name,
anyhow?"

"David Brickston.  My friends call me Brick."

"This as a brick," I added, eyeing his crotch.

"Depends on what you're referring to."  He didn't look at me when
he said this.  I think he was straight.  But I've never cared
much for that distinction.  A cock's a cock, just because the man
attached to it's straight doesn't mean the cock doesn't like
getting sucked.

"Okay Skip, let's get started.  I'll give you some lessons.  But
let me tell you something.  I don't like you.  You're a pain in
the ass and you're a selfish no-good sonofabitch.  I'm only
helping you 'cause it's paying my rent.  Got that straight?"

"Sure, Brick.  Real straight."

He worked me out but good.  The bench press, the curls, the leg
press and the cycle machine.  Hell, there's nothing "universal"
about that contraption.  I felt sick to my stomach after the
first "circuit".  Brick let me quit early and we broke for a
shower.

"Listen, kid, no one said it's gonna be easy.  It takes time."

"I ain't got time.  Besides I only like pain when I'm inflicting
it."

Brick's eyes widened.  I don't think he'd ever met anyone like me
before.

In the shower, I checked out the rest of his body, the parts of
him only his "girl" or his work-out buddies get to see:  his firm
ass cheeks, his low hanging balls, covered with a light brown
peach fuzz.  His cock was ample, meaning, I could choke on the
bulbous head.  What a way to go, I thought, choking to death on
Brick's thick, fat cock.  Hell, he'd probably love it if I did.

I reached over and grabbed his pecker.

It seemed like Time stood still.  He broke the silence without
moving away, his voice shaky.

"What the fuck you think you're doing?"

"I want to suck you dick.  Is that such a crime?"

"You fucking faggot-punk.  No one touches my dick like that."

He slammed his fist into my chest and I went crashing to the
soapy floor.  I looked up from the floor and I could see his cock
was beginning to fill out.  He liked hitting me.

"Get the fuck out of here before I break you in half."

"What about the workouts?"

"You show up.  And no funny business.  Hell, I need the money."

The next time I came to work out, Brick was very cold to me,
gruffly pushing me toward the weights without saying a word.  It
was like that for almost six months.  When we'd break, he'd run
off.  At first my muscles were as tight as a virgin's butthole,
but soon, after tremendous effort, my body began to change.  The
lats filled out, the pecs peaked and the delts were delivered.
Man, I was looking great.  Thanks to Brick I was turning into
one mean hunk.

One afternood, I'd finished working out in the gym and as usual
Brick had left without even saying goodbye.  Like most days, the
place was deserted.  I had the lockerroom all to myself.  I went
over to his locker and noticed he'd left his jockstrap on the
floor.  I took it, squeezing the soggy rag in my hand.  It was
still warm from his sweat.  there was a mirror on the wall at the
end of the aisle of lockers and I turned my newly primed body
toward it.  I was totally hard now, holding Brick's jock in one
hand, my rigid prick in the other.  I regarded myself in the
mirror and jerked off.

I looked at my muscles -- at my pecs and delts.  My abdomen
looked like a loaf of egg bread -- shiny, glistening, layered
with tight hard muscles.  I was beginning to look like Brick.  I
lifted his jock strap up to my nose and sniffed it, taking in the
smell -- a mixture of sweat, the musky odor of his balls and a
bit of precum.  hell, brick's dick was made to be sucked, I
thought, rubbing my face into the burly scented jock strap.  I
fitted the pungent rag over my face, unable to see anything
except the sparks shooting off behind my eyes.  The more I
inhaled Brick's man-small, licking and chewing on his jock strap,
the harder my dick got.  I was gonna blow my wad any second but I
wanted to look at my tits before I shot my load.  I removed the
jock strap and stared into the mirror.  I didn't see my pecs, I
saw Brick's.  He was standing right behind me, a mean scowl on
his face and a dirty look in his eye.  Time was frozen.  My cock
spewed out a torrent of milky cum that shot out and splattered
the mirror.  Goblets of the cum juice dripped down along the
image of the two of us, staring at each other through the
reflection in the mirror.

"Get out of here," he said in a hoarse voice.  You're psycho!"
He grabbed his jockstrap out of my hand and took a swipe at me.
"You white trash, queer!"  he yelled at me, a steely cold look in
his eye.

I wasn't about to take this shit sitting down.  No one slugs Skip
Towne without a fight.  I stood up, my knees still a bit shaky
after my orgasm, swinging at Brick.  He dodged it and returned
with a left right above my jaw.  It sounded like he broke
something, but my tongue quickly surveyed the damage, luckily
finding none.  I throw my arms around his neck and pulled him to
the floor.  If we were going to fight, at least let's fight like
men.  Wrestling him, I hooked my left elbow under his neck and
pulled his head back.  He quickly rolled out from under, grabbing
me from behind.  Since I was nude and still sweaty from my
workout, Brick had trouble keeping his hands on my.  I had no
problem keeping mine on his.  At last, I was touching his
dynamite body, the hard, firm flesh of my idol.  I reached for
his pecs and squeezed them between my fingers.  With a strength I
didn't even know I had, I held him down on the lockerroom floor,
pinning him against his will.  He fought back with everything he
had, but he coundn't budge.  I leaned over and kissed his lips,
making sure my tongue went in real deep.

He growled and spat on my face.  "You sick fuckin' faggot, get
off me!" he cried out.

"What's the matter, Brick.  Aren't you strong enough to escape?"
He wrestled with all his strength but he couldn't undo my expert
lock.  "I guess you made me stronger that you, Brick," I said,
laughing at the situation.  Who would have thought, just six
months ago I was a scrawny kid without any power and now I'm on
top of Brick holding him down as he strained to escape.  I got
another hard-on from laughing.  I pressed it against his chest.

"Feel that," I whispered maniacally,  "that's a man-sized dick,
mother-fucker, and it's getting hard for you!"

"Fuck off, jerk.  Let me go.  I can't stand you--you make me
sick.  You can't made me do anything."

"You ever suck a cock before?"  I asked positioning my dick right
at the entrance to his mouth.  His eyes were fumeng with fury.

"Never! and I never will!  I'll bite it off first."

"We'll see about that, buddy," I replied.

Despite my superior strength, I was not sure I could keep him
down forever, so I looked around until I spotted something that
could help me.  I found it dangling between his legs--his belt.
I pulled his belt strap out, and wrapped one side of it around
his left arm.  It was a tough struggle but gradually I got him to
drop his arm long enough for me to wind it around his other
wrist.  In this position, out faces were so close that I could
smell his saliva.  It was the spicy scent of fear.

I looped the belt along both wrists and pulled them taut against
his lower back as he cried out for me to let him go.  But his
pleas meant nothing to me.  I had one thought and one thought
only.  Total seduction.  I wanted to lick and violate every nook
and cranny of this stud.  To go where no man had gone before.
This dude was about to get laid.

I pulled him to the weight room, throwing him down on the floor
and locked the door.  He started to rant and rave that he was
going to kill me.  He kicked up with his legs.  I had to do
something about them and came up with a perfect solution.  All I
had to do was unbuckle his pants and pull them down to his
ankles, locking his knees.

I stepped toward him, my dick sticking out from my body like a
sword.  I jumped on top of him and we wrestled again.  I grabbed
a rag from the floor and shoved it in his mouth, he was making
far too much noise, it was distracting.

I reached for the zipper of his jeans and started to pull it
down.  He kicked and fought back, but again I was far too strong.
Slowly, I slipped the pants from his hips, exposing the hard,
hot flesh of his skin.  He was wearing a pair of Jockey briefs,
which did little to thwart the odor of his manhood.  I shucked
the pants down to his ankles running my hands along his fuzzy,
muscular thighs.  He groaned and slithered on the mat.  I cupped
my hand on his crotch and squeezed his prick bulge.  He was
fighting a hard-on, so I decided to make it even harder.  I
leaned over and pressed my lips against the steamy fabric, blowing
hot air into his pubic hair.  His cock ballooned out, firming up.
I stroked his balls and prick with less that a gentle hand.
Impatient, I tore off the briefs, exposing his semi-hard dick.  I
couldn't wait and dove into the thick of it sucking his ripe pud
into my hot, salivating mouth caused Brick to moan and buck up
and down.

Without releasing his stiff rod from my throat, I climbed on top
of him a la sixty-nine, straddling his chest with my knees.  In
this position, I could completely inhale his prick, sucking it
down to the balls, shoving my forehead against the warm hole of
his butt.  I'd never tasted such a flavorful cock; it was like
Baskin and Robbins down there!

He seemed to be getting off on my sucking him, 'cause he started
to move his ass up and down in synch with my head.  The time had
come to remove the gag from his mouth--how else could I get him
to eat out my ass!

Once the rag was released, he started cussing me out but real
good.  I shut him up again by sitting on his face.

"Eat my asshole, waybo!"

He screamed a garbled "No!" and tried to bite me.  But there was
nothing for him to sink his teeth into down there.  I rubbed my
asshole up and down along his stubbly upper lip, making sure his
nose got a good whiff of my balls and ass  His face was built for
rimming, his prominent nose a perfect butt plug.  I rammed my
head back down around his pud.  He groaned and instinctively
licked my crack.  He was getting into this!  His tongue twirled
around the lips of my male pussy, darting in and out of the
steaming crevasse.

I scooped up his balls with one hand and pulled up his sack,
exposing his pink rim-hole.  I shoved my probing tongue into the
heated snatch.  As if I were teaching him, he copied my every
move.

I don't think he'd ever been rimmed before because poor Brick was
screaming and hollering like a fifteen year old girl at a Michael
Jackson concert.

Next, I fingered his man-hole, flicking the lips, feeling under
for his prostate gland--his male clit.  Now Brick was putty in my
hand.  I shoved my thumb up to the hilt while engorging his cock
in my mouth.  Brick begon rimming me like a contestant in a
corn-on-the-cob competition.

I stuck a couple more fingers in his trap, knowing this would
bring him to his first orgasm.  I scarfed down his tool and
awaited the inevitable rush of white cream I'd come to relish.
He retorted with a torrent of jism blasting into the furnace of
my throat.  Wave upon wave of the milky liquid coated my tongue,
filling me up.

I didn't give him time to think about what we'd just done.  I
jumped off him and dragged his heaving body over to the bench
press, forcing him to lie down on it. I lifted his arms up and
hooded them to the top of the Universal.

He was screaming and hollering again, so I had no choice but to
shove my fat cock into the gaping angry hole of his mouth.

"I told you to shut up, loverboy."

He gagged and spumed but the look in his eye told me everything I
wanted to know.  He was scared--not scared of what I was making
him do, but scared by what he wanted me to do

I bent down and pulled off his pants.  By now he wasn't kicking
me anymore.  I lifted his legs and hooked them up to the weights,
so that it looked like he was in traction.  Now it was time to
have some fun!  I shoved my dick back in his mouth.

I spat into my fist and brought the thick saliva down to his male
box, spreading it like vaseline along his crack.  The more I
stroked his hot hole, the deeper he sucked in my cock.  He was
doing a good job of lubing my tube and I was ready to put it into
action.

Poking the tip of my pecker at his succulent asshole, I growled
out orders, forcing Brick to spread his legs open farther to
accommodate my manhood.  Yeah, he was going to feel my dick in
his ass and I hoped it hurt.  Oooh, man, if felt like my cock was
getting put through a vise when I started shoving it through his
tight-lipped crack.  He was fighting my entry, but like I said, I
never take no for an answer.  I pushed his knees up toward his
chest, causing him to breathe out unexpectedly.  Just at that
vulnerable moment, I rammed the full extent of my shaft deep into
his box, feeling his ass muscles straining to expel the intruding
hose.

"Stop!  It hurts!  Don't fuck me!  Please!" he cried out in shame
and horror.

That one word, "please" was the best aphrodisiac I had ever
encountered!  Please!  Coming from Brick!  I loved it and
proceeded to pork him deeper with my probing rod.  I was fucking
him real good, real mean, real expert-like.  I would stuff my
pickle right to the base where my balls meet the shaft and then
I'd pull it all the way out to the tip of my corona so that his
little buthole thought it was going to be free of me, but then,
at the right moment, pound my pud back in there, whooping and
hollering with a mindless glee, feeling his whole body shudder
around my pulsating aching hard-on.

My dick was beginning to work like a major quaalude in
suppository form.  Brick let go and relaxed his whole being
around my cock, slipping onto me like a hot leather glove.  Oooh,
he was enjoying this ram-job.  His eyes were rolling back toward
the inside of his brain, spinning in their sockets from the
delirious fever I was perpetrating in his male pussy.  he was
getting so hot and bothered that his fat cock looked like a water
balloon that was about to burst.  I reached over and squeezed the
turgid tool.

"Your cock is beautiful, Brick!" I said without thinking.  I
didn't want to start complimenting the dude.  Hell, that was too
cutesy for me.  But I meant what I said.  In fact, come to think
of it, Brick was pretty damn beautiful too! I looked down deep
into his eyes.

"Your prick ain't too bad, either," Brick answered, breathing
heavily.  "I've never felt this way before.  Is this what it
means to be fucked!  To feel like you're falling apart at the
seams and becoming whole at the same time!"

Such poetical words from a muscleman like Brick.  But I had that
effect on guys. Guess it's because I'm a master cocksmith,
probing my pecker so deep within them that I stimulate their
soul, or somethingl.  God, I was about to lose my load in him.

"Doesn't it hurt, Brick?" I asked revolving my hips against his
butt.

He threw his head back in ecstasy, groaning deeply.  "No..."
Then he smiled and said, "I think we've found a new exercise for
our workout sessions.  Funny, after all this time I never thought
I could learn from you."

"Just don't tell Gerald, he'll stop paying for the lessons."

Brick chuckled underneath me.

"Sure won't.  I don't want to stop meeting like this."

We both burst out laughing.  I reached down and pulled out my
dick.

"Don't stop!  Why'd you stop!"  Brick shouted at me.

I didn't respond.  My cock provided the best answer, shooting a
massive load of cum all over Brick's Dolly Parton tits.

I collapsed on top of him.

A moment later, he asked for me to release his arms and legs from
the makeshift traction.  I complied without hesitation.  The
second his arms were free, he swung at me and cracked me one but
good.

"Hey, what're you doing?"  I yelled.

"that's for thinking you can take advantage of me."  He jumped up
and wrestled me to the floor.  Now he was squatting on top of my
chest, taking swipes at my face.

"You fucking lousy punk!  Who do you think you are, forcing me to
do those terrible disgusting things!"  He reached behind his head
and picked up a 10 pound weight.  He lifted it over his shoulder,
ready to crash it down my skull.

"Stop!  I'm sorry!  Please, don't!"  I hollered in horror.  Then,
a smile burst across his handsome face, and he put the weight
down next to his side.  He leaned over and kissed me.

"Just kidding, Skip.  You silly little pain in the ass."

We spent the rest of the afternoon throwing out weight around.