Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2006 18:29:23 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: "Ab Blaster 5000" story

			      AB BLASTER 5000
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     "Oh, no, not again!" I said as I pulled up to my house and saw the
large, square cardboard box sitting out by the curb. Garbage pickup was
four more days away, but that wasn't what I was worried about; no doubt
some neighborhood kid would grab the box to build a fort or a playhouse or
a machine gun out of it well before then. No, it was the contents of that
box that I was interested in...or dreading.
     I got inside and the sound of the door opening and closing brought
Kevin out with a big grin on his face. He was wearing only a pair of
sneakers and navy blue shorts, his hairy chest gleaming with a light sheen
of sweat, his dark brown hair in its typical disarray. His smile was a
white gleam on his alabaster skinned face. Kevin is too pale to tan
properly; he always turns a very light golden color which promptly peels
off. I spent my sunny afternoons rubbing suntan oil onto his body. A dirty
job, but someone has to do it.
     Kevin slid into my arms and planted a big kiss on my skeptical
face. "Evening, honey." he said to me. "How was your day at work?"
     "Where is it?" I demanded to know instead.
     He didn't pretend not to understand me. "In the family room." he said.
     "Why did you put it in there?" I said. "Why not in the bedroom next to
the treadmill and the home gym and the stairmaster?"
     "Because this one is different." Kevin said.
     "You mean you'll use this one?" I said sarcastically. That sounds
mean, a person is on a fitness kick and you're supposed to support them. I
would except that the garage was loaded all along one wall with Kevin's
attempts at physical fitness.
     "Don't be like that." Kevin said petulantly. "I need to work on my
abs, you know that."
     Kevin had a small (very small) set of love handles. "You could eat
more salads." I said, being deliberately unhelpful.
     "Oh, you!" Kevin said, slapping at me, and getting a grin out of me.
     "Well, it's your money." I said. "You want to buy this crap, it's your
business, I guess."
     "Don't you want to see it?" Kevin said.
     "Can't we eat dinner first?" I asked. Then a suspicion hit. "You did
fix dinner, didn't you?"
     "I've been busy setting up the new machine all afternoon." Kevin
said. He worked out of the house, the lucky bastard, I had to go into the
office for umpteen hours a week.
     I sighed. "I'll call out for a pizza. You can show me your latest toy
while we wait." I lifted up my cell phone and hit the speed dial. A sign of
my lifestyle, three of my ten speed-dial buttons were for fast-food
delivery places.
     I ordered us a medium cheeze pizza and breadsticks and hung up. "Okay,
let's see the latest prodigy that's going to give you bigger pecs."
     "This one is for my abs." Kevin bragged.
     "Abs, pecs, what's the difference?" I asked as I followed him into the
family room.
     "There it is!" Kevin threw his hand out in a grand gesture. "What do
you think?"
     "It looks like a giant tricycle with the seat on backwards." I said,
peering at it.
     "It's called the Ab Blaster 5000." Kevin said. "All I have to do is
sit in it, turn it on, and watch television for a half hour while it does
all the work."
     "Hmm." I said. "Exercise for a couch potato, huh?"
     "You can use it, too." Kevin said.
     "Ouch!" I said. He'd gotten the better on me on that one! "Okay, what
do you mean it does all the work?"
     "It's got the motor down here." Kevin said. He sat down and locked his
legs under the foam-rubber pads, the sort that you usually have on a
machine to do leg-lifts on weights. Then, he bent over to flip a switch
between his legs and grabbed hold of the overhead handles with his
hands. "You get five seconds to finish getting in position before it
begins."
     "Begins what?" I asked, but the answer showed itself. The entire
contraption began to move. Kevin was lifted by the seat outwards. He went
from a seated position to a straight-out position (though at a 45-degree
angle, not upright) and back again. Slowly at first, then faster and
faster. In less than a minute, he was being bucked back and forth at a
pretty rapid pace.
     "You see?" Kevin said, somewhat breathlessly. "My abs get worked for
me. I just sit here and watch the television."
     "If you can focus on the television set with that going on." I
said. Kevin's muscles were being moved, though I wondered just how much
flexing alone with no tension was going to do for him.
     "How does it look?" Kevin asked me. "I feel kind of silly, now I got
it turned on, doing this and just hanging on. The cute guys on the
television made it look easy and fun. Do I look totally stupid here?"
     "Not totally stupid." I said, with a little too much emphasis on
"totally."
     "Jerk." Kevin said without any heat. "Really, what does it look like?"
     I considered it, his lovely body sliding back and forth. "It looks
like...it looks like..." I was watching the part of his body moving the
most. His crotch. "It looks like a real waste not to use some of that for
myself is what it looks like."
     I reached down and caught hold of his basket and Kevin just
chuckled. "You thought of that, too, huh?"
     "Think it'll really work?"
     "Only one way to find out." Kevin said. He reached and turned off the
machine, with difficulty because he was being buffeted back and forth, it
looked a little painful, being bucked while bent over like that. But he got
it off and the machine slowed down and stopped. He lifted his legs out from
behind the pads, and said, "Strip me."
     I grabbed the navy blue shorts and tugged them off. "Want the
sneakers, too?"
     "Nah, leave `em on." Kevin advised. "We got to hurry before the pizza
gets here." He pumped at his cock and brought it up to its usual nine
inches of hard man-dong. Kevin always gets it hard in a hurry, it's one
reason we're together. Okay, THE reason we're together. That may sound
shallow of me, but while common interests are all well and good, you can
get that from your friends, it takes a horny lover to satisfy you the rest
of the time.
     "They said forty-five minutes." I advised. "Now slide forward so I can
slick you up."
     "Lube's upstairs."
     "My mouth isn't."
     "Ooh, I like the way you think." Kevin said as I grabbed hold of his
cock as I knelt down.
     "It's why they made me the shipping manager." I said. "I know how to
handle the big loads." And I slipped my mouth over his cock.
     Kevin lowed like a cow I had heard, a long moaning sound. "Mmm, damn,
baby, you do that better than anybody I know."
     I grinned around his prong and kept on sucking. Kevin knew how to show
appreciation for a blow-job, it made it so much easier to keep on giving
them. Kevin kept up a stream of appreciative moans while I turned his tool
into a slippery tower of potent strength. I stood up, then, and said, "Now,
keep that thing up with happy thoughts while I get out of these clothes."
     "Always, just by watching you." Kevin said. God, that man can
sweet-talk me when he wants to!
     With my heart singing, I slipped off my tie and undid my shirt. My
shoes were simple to slip off and I peeled my shirt off. Kevin was watching
it all with a rapt expression, like he was still madly in love with
me. Okay, so he is. We're just a couple of mad-cap lovers.
     I got out of my pants with ill grace, stumbling, but then the boxers
came off easy and that left my t-shirt.
     "That's enough." Kevin judged. "You got enough off to let you climb
on. And you need something on so you can answer the door when the pizza
gets here. Can't you see the look on the guy's face when you answer just
wearing a t-shirt and a pair of socks?"
     "Knowing the delivery guys we got around here, he'd probably drop the
pizza and land on his knees in a heartbeat. Lots of twinks deliver pizza
these days." I got up straddle of him. "Okay, Kevin, soon as I get this
thing in, you flick the switch."
     "Get ready for the ride." Kevin said. "This thing bucks harder than it
looks like, I know, I wasn't expecting it to be such a hard jolt when I saw
it on TV."
     "I'll be ready for it." I promised and I guided the slick missile into
my anal silo. Yeah, that's what I was thinking when I slid it in, a big,
sticky man-missile heading into me, steel-hard and bullet-nosed. I got the
head and a bit more in, and then I nodded to Kevin.
     The machine began to move and Kevin's body was pushed upwards. I
staggered a bit as he rose up, he was moving different than he would if he
was fucking me. But I got up on my tiptoes and spread my legs, and Kevin
was rocking me on each upward thrust, but otherwise, we were in business.
     "Yeah, that'll do it." I sighed as he began to move faster. The
machine had a pretty fast speed, something like fifty strokes a minute, the
speed was part of the exercise according to the manual (I read all this
later), and I was soon in blissful delight, swaying back and forth on my
toes wasn't uncomfortable yet, and Kevin's dong was at its usual rock-hard
rigidity, riding in and out of me, and I was getting it with none of the
unevenness that inhibits every bout of lovemaking, the slight slip, the
slide of the knees on the sheets that changes the angle, the pause and
shift of the body to get back upright, this machine was awkward (not its
fault, it wasn't meant to be a fuck machine) but it maintained a steady
rhythm that never varied.
     But that rocking motion got damned hard on my toes. I gave up and
shifted forward and rested my weight on Kevin's body entirely, now I was
riding up and down with him, but the cock still went in and out of me, as
Kevin shifted from straight-body to sitting, and this was better, I grinned
at him and we kissed as we rode up and down the bronco-like machine, and
the motion caused our teeth to collide, they clinked against each other, a
distinct sound though mostly traveling through the bones, and a hell of a
vibration.
     So I raised back up and Kevin panted, said, "Damn, this is getting me
damned hot."
     "That's the idea." I agreed, and my own breath was getting tight.
     "I mean, I'm about to shoot." Kevin gasped. "You ready for it?"
     "You know me."
     "I sure do." Kevin agreed. He meant I usually hit my climax right
after his. There's something about having my lover shoot his wad that
triggers my own, it's just knowing that he is in that spot of sheer rapture
and unadulterated bliss, I want to join him there, and my body takes that
as its cue. One of these days, Kevin would try to trick me or something,
come just after we had barely begun. When he did, I'd learn how much that
really meant to me. I wouldn't put it past Kevin, either, he loved ringing
in changes on me.
     So I let my own body's pleasure rise up in me just as much as it
wanted, no baseball team names or images of a naked grandmother for me! It
was go for it, penis, get ready to blow it all over that warm, furry coat
of hair on Kevin's chest where it belongs!
     That fur was rubbing my own stomach and sternum, a brush much like the
way a Persian cat when he purrs and rubs up against you, firm and warm and
friendly and soft, and it was wetted by sweat from his body and from mine,
I looked down at Kevin with glazed eyes and his mouth was an "O" of
impending orgasm, and he groaned, gurgled, his body stiffened, his cock
went up into my ass and it stayed buried there, he was ignoring the machine
for these seconds, and I felt the scalding spray of sperm peppering my
innards, fountaining out of his dong and Kevin, my lover, my body's friend,
my life-mate, gargled out his joy, and like it always did, my own body
heard the passion and matched it with its own!
     "Ahh, AHH, ANNHH-GUUHHHH!" I geysered my jizz over his chest and one
stream even slapped up along one side of his neck, Kevin still gasping with
the endings of his own climax, and my spunk sprayed over him as he
continued to be buffeted by the machine as we both were rocked, no, harder,
we were storm-tossed by the machine's frantic bucking.
     My climax done, I feebly reached a hand up and shut the motor off, and
the machine's bucking damped down into slow motions and stopped.
     "So, what did you think of this machine?" Kevin panted.
     "I think this one is a keeper." I said. "Good thing, too. No more room
in the garage and the spare bedroom is getting crowded, too."
     "Har, har." Kevin said. "I don't own that many exercise machines."
     "Want to bet?"
     "Define many." Kevin went cautious on me.
     "More than twenty."
     "That's not a lot." Kevin said uncomfortably. He had about thirty-five
of them, at a guess.
     "Got you." I said with satisfaction. The doorbell rang. "That'll be
the pizza."
     "You going to try answering it wearing only a t-shirt?" Kevin wanted
to know.
     "Don't tempt me." I said. "I'll take your shorts."
     "If he's cute, bring him on back. We'll see if he wants a ride."
     "We can print up tickets and get a booth at the amusement park." I
agreed as I slid on the shorts. Digging my wallet out of my pants, I left
my lover cleaning up in the family room and went to get the pizza.

				  THE END
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