Date: Wed, 18 Jan 2012 06:18:42 -0800 (PST)
From: Alex O'donnell <alexodonnell99@yahoo.com>
Subject: Ultimate Muscle Hunk Challenge part 12

All the usual disclaimers apply:

*This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to depict any living
person.

*Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do
so.

This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited
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My thanks to CJ for the encouragement.


The Ultimate Muscle Hunk Challenge, Part 12


If you've read this far, readers, you know all about the Ultimate Muscle
Hunk Challenge. I don't need to describe the hot, sexy scenes of studly men
flexing their muscles on camera, or the way the men pushed the envelope
further and further each episode. They clearly wanted that half-million
dollar grand prize, and they were willing to do anything to get it. The
question was: how much further could they even go?

So, last week, Peter had been eliminated from the competition. I was torn:
on the one hand, Rod had earned his spot on the show, jacking his cock off
in an explosive climax in a desperate (but successful) attempt to remain on
the program. On the other hand, Peter was SO hot. He was an achingly
beautiful man. His leaving the show would obviously leave a big gap.

Still, I wasn't about to stop watching the program the way some of the
forum goers on the official forum had threatened to do. There was a small
but vocal segment on the forums who were protesting Peter's departure. Most
of their ire was directed at the show's producers, but a fair amount was
also directed at Rod Dixon, whose sexy jack-off session on the last program
had proved that he, too, was willing to push the envelope in order to
please the audience.

I had to admit, conservative Christian or not, Rod had come through at the
end. His sexy, muscle-flexing cummy jerkoff on TV was the hottest thing I'd
ever seen on the show. I couldn't wait for the next episode. According to
buzz on the forums, people behind the scenes were claiming the next episode
would be even filthier. I wasn't sure how that was even possible.

Friday night finally came. As always, I set the DVR to record the show so I
could replay it later without having to sit through endless commercials.

After the opening credits rolled, Alex and Scott appeared on stage as the
studio audience cheered. Alex talked about the show regretfully sending
Peter Cox home. I must have been extra horny, because I could barely focus
on what Alex was saying. The man positively oozed sexiness. He was really
handsome, and, even fully clothed, you could tell he had a muscular body
underneath that black blazer. I was hoping he'd rip off his clothes right
then and there, but obviously, that didn't happen.

Scott was yammering on and on about sportsmanship, competition, and
determination. He wasn't nearly as hot as Alex, although he, too, was
admittedly very handsome. I wasn't really paying attention to him until he
said something about personal trainers.

"That's right, Scott," Alex said. "Last week, just after the show, each of
our three remaining contestants was assigned a personal trainer. These men
have been working with our competitors over the last week, pushing them
beyond their limits and beyond anyone's expectations. Let's watch!"

The scene changed from the stage view to a pre-recorded segment showing
Jack in one of those "confessional"-type scenes.

"So, this week, we've each been assigned a personal trainer who will be
working with us," Jack said. "These guys will be helping us to achive our
goals and add on a few more pounds of muscle."

The scene then cut to Dick. "We've been working out on a daily basis for
weeks, but our new trainers are going to help us put on serious mass. I
can't wait!" He smiled sexily.

The view then changed to Rod, who said, "I'm a little nervous about meeting
my new trainer. I've never had a personal trainer before. I hope he can
really push me hard and get me to grow a bit more. I know I need to bring
things to the next level if I'm to compete with Dick and Jack."

Then Rod's new personal trainer came into the weight room. Jesus, this dude
was HOT! He was incredibly muscular, with giant, slab-like pecs and the
biggest arms I've ever seen.

"Hi, my name's John Thomas Johnson, and I'll be your new personal trainer,"
he said. The two men shook hands, and you could see Rod's surprise at how
huge this man's muscles were. John Thomas wasn't very tall, but he was
stacked like a brick shithouse. He was wearing a white string tank top that
really didn't cover much. The shirt was so low-cut that you could see his
ripped abs. The sides of his shirt were mostly missing. You could see John
Thomas' impressive obliques and his wide, flaring lats.

"I'm going to be working you pretty hard, Rod. I hope that's ok," John
Thomas said. "I could see from the tapes of the show that I watched that we
really need to work on your pecs, biceps, delts, and abs. We're going to
need to add about 20 pounds of muscle over the next couple of weeks. So
let's get your shirt off and we'll get started."

Rod pulled off his shirt and the pair moved to the cable crossover
machine. John Thomas pulled off his shirt, too, and then moved to stand
directly behind Rod, as his spotter.

Rod started doing cable crossovers as John Thomas gave him tips, such as
"Always make sure to do the full extension." Rod started off in a
spread-eagled position and slowly brought his arms downward and
together. When Rod's biceps were flexed, from behind him, John Thomas
gripped both of his biceps tightly, telling Rod to "Flex those fuckers as
hard as you can on every press, Rod. Harder. No, harder. Don't pussy out on
me. Okay, now release slowly."

Rod slowly raised his arms back up to the starting point. "Good, Rod," John
Thomas said. "We're going to do ninety-nine more of those fuckers. Go."

Rod brought his arms down and toward one another again, as John Thomas
encouraged him to flex his biceps harder: "Harder, Rod. No, much harder!
You'll never feel the burn unless you really flex your guns harder on every
rep. That's better. Okay, now flex those pecs harder, too."

From behind Rod, John Thomas' hands moved from Rod's biceps down to his
pecs. He gripped a pec in each hand as he told Rod to flex his chest
muscles harder. "Harder, Rod! That's it. Fuckin' flex hard every rep. Shit,
don't stop now. Fuckin' bring both guns down again, and as you do, flex
both pecs as hard as you fucking can."

Rod did a fourth rep, and then a fifth and sixth, as John Thomas continued
to knead his pecs and offer suggestions using an incredibly long string of
profanities. I had thought Jack, the former longshoreman, was foul-mouthed,
but he had nothing on John Thomas, whose language was peppered with F-bombs
about every fourth word. "Fuckin' flex those fuckers harder. Fuck! Don't
fuckin' stop now, you fucker!"

Rod performed rep after rep as, behind him, John Thomas spoke into his
ear. "Don't fuckin' stop. Keep going. Feel that fucking burn. You feel
that? Shit, that's nothing. You're only on twenty-five reps. We got
seventy-five left. Flex harder. Don't pansy out on me already. Fuck that!"
He ran his hands over Rod's pecs as he spoke, kneading the flesh and the
muscle underneath. "Fuck! Twenty-six! Fuck! Twenty-seven. Don't fuckin'
stop. Flex those tits. That's it."

Then John Thomas' hands moved down to Rod's abs. "Okay, Rod," he said. "You
need to start flexing these fuckers hard, too. Every downward press, flex
your abs as hard as you fuckin' can. That's it. Fucking-A."

Rod now flexed his abs on every downward press as John Thomas encouraged
him to flex his arms, abs and chest harder and harder. "You're gonna
fuckin' feel that burn tonight. Keep it up. Don't stop, for any reason."

John Thomas' hands alternately kneaded and rubbed Rod's abdomen,
occasionally traveling back up to squeeze his pecs again. He was speaking
directly into Rod's right ear, his lips less than an inch away from Rod's
ear as Rod continued the workout.

"Flex harder, Rod. Harder. Don't be a fuckin' fairy. Flex those
abs. Forty-one... Forty-two. That's it." John Thomas' hands drifted further
and further down. "Forty-three. Don't fuckin' stop." The fingers of his
right hand pushed down into the waistband of Rod's workout shorts. "Flex
all the way down here, Rod. Feel that? Right above your dick. You gotta
flex all the way down there."

"I... I don't want..."

"Shhh. Don't speak, Rod," John Thomas almost half-whispered, his lips
almost touching Rod's ear. His body was pressed up against Rod's, his right
hand now entirely inside Rod's shorts. "Just focus on the flex. You fuckin'
feel that? Flex harder. HARDER!"

Rod flexed harder as John Thomas mauled the younger man's body with his
hands, kneeding his muscles as he whispered instructions in Rod's ear.

As Rod reached fifty reps, John Thomas' right hand moved even lower,
obviously touching Rod's cock. Rod almost lost his grip on the crossover
cable grips, but John Thomas kept whispering, telling him not to stop:
"Keep going, Rod. Don't ever fuckin' stop. Feel that? That's your
reward. Flex that muscle, too. Flex that fucker. That's it."

John Thomas started stroking Rod's prick with his right hand, as his left
wandered up, tweaked Rod's nipple, then massaged his abs. With all of the
distractions, Rod was having some trouble concentrating on the crossover
workout. Yet John Thomas kept encouraging him to
continue. "Fifty-three. Flex. That's it. Fifty-four..."

John Thomas started jacking Rod's cock in earnest, now, going to town on
Rod's tool as Rod continued the workout. Rod's workout shorts bulged
obscenely as John Thomas masturbated him. Rod had a big, 8-inch cock, and
as he became fully erect, his big red cock head and the top few inches of
the shaft of his cock became visible above the waistband of his
shorts. John Thomas just kept jacking Rod faster and faster. His crotch,
pressed up against Rod's ass, humped Rod's backside hungrily.

"Shit!" John Thomas exclaimed. "You've got me hard, Rod. Don't stop,
Rod. Fuckin' flex those muscles!" Then he stuck his tongue in Rod's ear,
and suddenly Rod ejaculated, spewing cum all over his own abs and chest,
and John Thomas' right hand. John Thomas lifted his hand up to Rod's mouth
as he told Rod to lick up the mess. I couldn't believe my eyes as Rod
obeyed, licking his own cum off the other man's hand.

I had to rewind the recording several times just to believe my own eyes as
I watched Rod, over and over, gobble up the cum he'd spewed all over John
Thomas' arm, licking John Thomas' fingers, palm, thumb and wrist clean.

The scene ended all too soon.



To be continued...