Date: Sat, 9 Jul 2016 21:59:56 +0000
From: tom davis <underarmour001@hotmail.com>
Subject: Bodybuilder Muscle Girl

Bodybuilder Muscle Girl

Brett wiped the sweat from his face. His breathing was labored and his
heart rate was racing. He leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees to
hold himself steady. His head bowed as more sweat rolled down from under
his backwards ball cap that hid his thick, brown hair. The sweat trickled
down his forehead, some dripping off his cute, upturned nose, some
dribbling off his wide, square jaw. The kind of jaw making his
boy-next-door looks even more irresistible.

He kept his head down but raised his eyes and stealing a look into the
mirror at himself still in the squat rack, the bar loaded with too many
plates to count. His already too tight, compression t-shirt was drenched
with sweat making it mold to his torso, outlining the deep crevice running
down middle of his six-pack abs.  His baseball sized biceps scrunched up
the sleeves of his shirt almost making it look like a tank-top.

This was by far one of the hardest workouts yet.  His trainer was hardcore
and seriously intense.  Sarge, as everyone called him, was a drill sergeant
in the Marines.  He was almost 40 years old but looked no older than 30. He
is incredibly disciplined, never drinking, never smoked, eats clean
24/7. His skin was immaculate, not a wrinkle to give away his age. His dark
black hair was styled long on top and faded on the sides which gave him a
mix of civilian and military at the same time. His eyes were crystal blue
and very intense.  When he looked at you it was if he was boring holes into
your eyes. He always gave direct eye contact making him even more
intimidating.

Brett slowly stood up straight, place his hands on his hips, "Damn,
Sarge. I feel like I got beat up."

Sarge laughed and slapped him on the back, "No pain, no gain as they say."

"Whoever THEY are, need to be shot."

Brett was starting to regain his senses. Sarge handed him a jug of water.

"Drink up, boy. You gotta hydrate." Sarge turned to look at him through the
mirror. "You're making incredible gains. You'll place well next
weekend. The judges are all about symmetry and you have that in spades."

Brett smiled. He felt really good inside when Sarge gave him praise of any
kind. He liked making Sarge proud. He felt a strong bond with the older
man.  He would do anything for Sarge, that's how much he trusted and
respected him. He looked at himself again. He did have very good
symmetry. He had great genes, his body grew muscle easily and he was not
far from turning 18, so being young and primed didn't hurt either.

He flexed his quads.  His navy slick, blue tights were second-skin, they
highlighted his ripped quads, his bulbous calves and accentuated his small
30 inch waist. He loved wearing his gym gear. He looked and felt like a
superhero with the way all his gear fit him, tight, body-hugging spandex,
muscles pumped and bulging. He craved attention and got it wearing these
clothes. He walks into the gym and people stopped and stare at him. Some
guys say they would never be caught dead in head-to-toe spandex but when
they look at Brett, they second-guess the notion.  He pulls it off
well. Every guy in the gym wishes they were as built as Brett. They think
if they had his body, they would wear spandex too. Show that shit off!  His
confidence was off the scale. He wears his spandex as a badge of honor.
After all, spandex is a privilege, not a right.

Brett smiled again to himself as he looked in the mirror and he recalled
his first inklings of his affinity for spandex.

Brett had always been attracted to stretch material. It's one big reason
why he got into bodybuilding. He wanted to look like the superheroes he saw
in his extensive comic book collection. Spandex was a required to look like
a superhero and he had to have the perfect body to pull it off.

Brett acquired a more extreme taste for lycra when he started trainging
with Sarge.  Sarge had similar gear as well. Always decked out in spandex
leggings, his form-fitting sleeveless Underarmour shirt and Crossfit
shoes. Dude was a stud. Brett often thought he hopes he looks that good
when he gets to be his age.

Sarge is his biggest inspiration and motivation. He is not only his trainer
and best friend, he's one of his sponsors.  It's expensive to compete what
with gym memberships, supps, food and workout gear. He was happy Sarge was
paying for most of all he needed to train and compete.  Sarge took him gear
shopping a lot, online and in stores. After a few weeks of training, Brett
was sporting the tightest workout gear he could find and man did it look
good on him.

Things got more heated with his new found fetish when Sarge gave Brett his
first thong. He gave it to Brett in a shopping bag and said, "Wear these
under your tights when you lift."

Brett opened the bag and looked inside seeing many pairs of thongs. "Dude,
why?" Brett scoffed.

"You don't want guys seeing your panty-lines, do ya? You're too pretty as
it is." He said with a wink and a slap to the shoulder.

Brett gave Sarge a bewildered look. He looked down into the bag again and
then back at Sarge who was now walking away.

Brett eyes watched Sarge's ass as he walked away. He started to think to
himself, "Huh. No lines. He's must be wearing a thong. Damn. His ass does
always look amazing." Suddenly Brett got a weird feeling in his stomach and
his heart raced. He'd always appreciated Sarge's body and the hard work he
put into it. But this time, he felt aroused. Sexually. Picturing his own
hands massaging Sarge's ass. He wanted to know what it felt like, how the
tight material felt against his ass. Brett continued to watch Sarge walk
away. Sarge looked back as he was walking away with a big shit-eating grin
on his face. Brett rolled his eyes. "Great. I'm looking at a dude's ass? I
really need to get laid." He said to himself.

 He went home that night, locked himself in his room and tried on the
thong.  "Damn, they make my ass look good."

He felt a flutter in his stomach at the thought, like butterflies or
something. He stood sideways in front of his mirror, turning side to front
and back. He pulled on a pair of Under Armour Heat-Gear tights and damn it
if his ass and legs didn't look fucking hot! Hotter than usual. The smooth,
sleekness of the material unencumbered by underwear lines on his muscular
ass and legs sent another chill down his spine. He knew he was hot. He's
even jacked off to his own reflection before but now he felt like he could
cum without even touching himself. Ever since that day, Brett has always
worn a thong under his tights and on occasion, tights under his jeans.

In the beginning, Sarge kept him stocked up with spandex. He always says,
"If you got it, flaunt it." Soon Brett attracted another sponsor.  Sarge
had met with a sponsor to represent Brett. The weird thing was, this guy
wanted to remain anonymous to Brett. He didn't quite understand why the
sponsor was anonymous. It peaked his curiosity for a while until he
received his own credit card with a limitless line of credit. Sarge told
him to go crazy and buy whatever he wanted. No limits. He bought designer
clothes from the finest stores in town. He had tailor made suits, shirts
and jeans made for Brett. They were fitted to his body to show it off and
advertise his success. He was the best dressed 17 year old in school.

The Mr. Teen All-Natural Bodybuilding Competition was the following
weekend.  Being all natural is harder than regular bodybuilding where you
have to use steroids, growth hormones and various other substances that
give you the advantage when competing. Natural bodybuilders don't have
huge, jacked up muscles like other bodybuilders. Every gain you make is
because of hard work and countless hours in the gym, not to mention a very
strict clean diet. Brett's muscle is lean, cut and he doesn't look like a
bloated freak. Just tan, lean, smooth and sleek.

Before Brett got into bodybuilding, he thought he was on his way to a
football scholarship.  He is an amazing athlete, excelling in football,
baseball, track and lacrosse. He loved football most. The comradery of his
team mates, the adrenaline of the game, the way conditioning made his body
muscular and sexy as hell. Then there were the uniforms. The uniforms alone
were the biggest reason he played football. Brett loved pulling on his
football pants, the tight, white, polyester stretch pants defined his quads
and most of all, made his ass look amazing. His muscular ass, high and
tight, the pants hugging so tight, compressing his body made him horny as
hell.  He loved the compliments he got about his ass from all the girls.
He loved that his body was objectified and the center of attention, most of
all his ass.  For some reason he felt sexy when anyone complimented his
ass.  He was afraid of wrestling, a spandex singlet would most surely get
him in trouble.

"You have time to do some cardio before practice?" asked Sarge, waking
Brett from his day dreaming reminiscing.

Brett grabbed his gym bag and his weight belt, slung the bag over his
shoulder. "Nah, I have to be there a little early today. We're getting new
uniforms today and then the coach wants to talk to me about something."

"Alright. I'll text you later," Sarge said as he gathered his gear as well.

"Sure thing. Later."

"You did great today, Brett. You're going to do well," Sarge called to him.

Brett turned and smiled as he walked out the door. His heart was warm, the
amount of satisfaction he received from Sarge's praise made him feel
alive. His stomach fluttered at the thought of Sarge telling everyone how
proud he is of him and that Brett was his champion. Brett was his boy. At
that last thought, "being his boy," for some reason made his heart
palpitate and his dick a little hard.

________________

Brett arrived at the high school locker room. The guys were all arriving
and and talking at their lockers as they changed into their practice gear.

Brett was at his locker going through his gym bag when someone whistled
from across the locker room. Ugh. It was Toby.

"Hey Superman! Where's your cape?" Toby yelled.

Brett did not like Toby.  They clashed all the time. Brett had to take him
down last year, knocked him unconscious. At the time, Brett's girlfriend
Chloe happened to also be Toby's ex-girlfriend. Brett broke up with her
because he caught Chloe cheating with Toby. When Brett found them, he
knocked Toby unconscious.  In the end Brett couldn't really blame her.  He
was so busy with football and bodybuilding that they never saw each other
and before he realized it, it was too late. She got bored and went back to
Toby. Now a year later, Brett and Toby tolerate each other which still
doesn't stop Toby from being a complete dick.

A small chorus giggled and laughed at Toby's question.

"Yeah! Where's your cape?" Someone hollered from the back.

Brett looked confused. "What the fuck are you guys?" Then he stopped. Brett
looked around and then looked down at his legs. He realized he was still
wearing his workout gear, his blue tights, tight blue compression shirt.
Meh, he probably did look like a superhero.

Brett smiled, turned around and flipped off Toby. "It's at the cleaners."
Brett quipped back.

Toby smirked. "Good one," he said sarcastically, "tell me, where are the
little red undies that go over your tights?" Brett shot him a surprised
look. There was something about the way Toby asked that question. He said
it very pointedly like he already knew the answer to the question.

Brett's heart skipped a beat. He started to sweat.

"Haven't you seen the Man of Steel? No more undies." Brett
winked. Hopefully he recovered.

Brett had been an avid comic book collector since he was 8 or 9 years
old. He must had seen Man of Steel at least 10 times. Batman V Superman, at
least 3 times. Where else can you see a hot guy encased in blue spandex and
can fly?

"I'm sure you have some red panties somewhere, pretty boy." Toby once again
seemed to be speaking in code. Brett couldn't figure it out until he had an
epiphany? "Fuck! Chloe. That bitch."

Brett's heart skipped a beat again. He turned back to his locker and
started changing into his practice uniform. His internal thoughts were
working overtime,"Fucking asshole. Fucking Chloe. Fuck it! If he knows, he
knows. At least he's not saying anything, well outright anyway... Asshole."

He still couldn't help but feel a little nervous.  His fear of his secret
being exposed caught him off guard because he did have some little red
undies, they were just made of lace, that's all. He laughed inside. He did
feel like Clark Kent.  Secret identity. His public persona, jock, tough
guy, fighter, womanizer and alpha male.  Inside he felt like a big,
beautiful, sleek, horny pretty boy that loved to wear lingerie, panties,
thongs, stockings. Ever since Sarge gave him his first thong, he longed to
wear them all the time.  He knew he couldn't though. He knew if he got
caught, it was the end of everything for him. He was sure there weren't too
many dudes into putting on a pair of pink, ruffled boy-shorts and staring
at himself in the mirror for long amounts of time. He masturbates to his
own image for fuck sake.  An image of masculinity mixed with a feminine
pretty boy begging to be exposed and used. Lately, he wanted to be with
another guy who understood what he needed.  He didn't know he felt this way
until he started experimenting with lingerie, which was something he
stumbled into. He didn't even think himself as gay.  Sure, he appreciated a
masculine, muscular physique on a handsome guy.  He never felt like he
needed to be taken by a dude, sexually. He really wasn't ever attracted to
a guy sexually unless he thought about his feminine fantasies. He started
to wonder when he looked at certain guys, big, muscular, masculine guys,
how they would feel if one of them would take him, control him, make love
to him while he was dressed like a chic.  He wanted to know how their
girlfriends felt when in their warm, strong embrace, protected. It was
becoming an obsession, one that he was starting to take over his life. He
can blame it all on his ex-girlfriend, Chloe.
 He sat down on the bench and thought back over the past couple of years,
who he was before and who he is now.  "Fucking, Chloe." He said under his
breath.

____2 years earlier______________

Two years ago, during his sophomore year is when he started dating
Chloe. They were like Ken and Barbie. Chloe with long blonde hair, killer
body, cheerleader. Brett, handsome, football player, hot body, 190 lbs. of
pure muscle an all-around bad-ass. They were envied. They were the perfect
couple.

In the spring after football season there was a tradition at school called
"Powder Puff Football." This was a football game played entirely by girls
and the guys were the cheerleaders. The girls suited up and so did the
boys. The catch was that the boys had to wear the girl's cheerleader
uniforms. A blue and white one-piece, short sleeve tank that was basically
a girl's gymnastics outfit, short pleated skirt that went over that and
tennis shoes. They sported wigs and make-up, the whole get-up.

Obviously most guys were petrified of dressing in a skirt and going out in
public but once the game got going, it turned out to be a hilarious blast!
Dudes in dresses usually is. Everyone laughing and carrying on.

Chloe gave Brett one her cheer uniforms which was way too small. She helped
him pulled on the one-piece and struggled to get the straps over his
muscular shoulders. It was so tight and it was riding up his ass. Then came
the skirt. He pulled it up and tried to get the waist up over his
bubblebutt without ripping it. Finally, he got it into place and looked at
himself in the mirror. He was mesmerized. He didn't know what to think. He
looked obscured but at the same time he saw a muscular, masculine man but
at the same time, feminine, vulnerable, a muscular porcelain doll that
needed to be handled delicately.  He was looking at a living, breathing
contradiction.  A man, beautiful, muscular, masculine who was pretty,
delicate and meek.

"Hey, look at you!" Chloe ran her hand up and down his exposed biceps. "I
don't think I'll ever get to wear this again, babe.  You stretched it all
out with your big, hot muscles." She said giddy as she snuggled up to him
close.

"Yeah. Sorry." Brett smiled.

"Oh it's ok, babe. You can't help it if you have the body of a grown man
trapped in a 16 year old's body. Bedsides?" She stood back to take in a
full look at Brett. "You kinda look hot!"

"What?" Brett said, spinning around. Confused.

"No, babe, really. The way that fits on your body, so tight, makes your
muscles look even bigger than they are. Shows off your "assets" too." She
smacked his ass.

"Hey!" He grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss.

She started laughing, "Don't believe me? Look at the back. Your ass is so
high and tight, that the skirt hangs off your ass like a shelf. That's one
of the reasons I love you. You're a hot piece of ass," She laughed. "watch
out, some guy is going to accidently set his beer on your ass thinking it's
the bar!"

Brett turned sideways to the mirror and looked again and sure enough, his
ass was high, tight and the skirt made it look even more so. His stomach
started to flip-flop. He could feel his dick starting to harden. He didn't
know what was happening.  He couldn't stop looking at himself. He was so
sexy, so hot.  The outfit, a second skin revealing his abs, his pecs bulged
stretching the fabric to its limit. The short sleeves only came down as far
as it shoulders and they too were struggling to contain his bulbous
shoulders. The skirt only came down to the tops of his muscular thighs.

"Come on baby. We have to do your make-up." Chloe dragged him over to the
vanity. She was loving this way too much.

For the next half-hour Chloe applied make-up to Brett's face. When she was
done, she spun him around to the mirror and he was astounded at what he
saw.  His square jaw with protruding cheekbones accented with the
blush. His eyes lined with liner that made his blue eyes pop. His lashes
long and thick from mascara.  His eye shadow was a smoky gray and
black. The best part was his blood red lips. Once again, a
contradiction. Muscular shoulders and bull neck attached to a beautiful,
elegant face. He stared at himself.  He dick was almost fully hard. He
couldn't stand up now. She might see that he was turned on by what she
saw. He started to panic. What to do?

Chloe came back from her closet with a hot pink wig cut in a bob. Front
bangs only covering his forehead and sides all one length.  She slipped it
onto his head and stood back. He stood up, forgetting about his bone. He
looked directly into the mirror, placed his hands on the vanity and leaned
forward, studying his face and his hair. His brain was starting to boil. He
was pretty like a girl yet at the same time, masculine, obviously a
boy. Why was he feeling this way??? He stepped back away from the mirror
and looked at his completed work of art. His low body fat made the uniform
amplify his sleek, streamlined body.  His legs were shaved adding to the
sleekness of his body. His quads striated and the skirt came down not even
half way. His lats protruded from the sides of the one-piece and his
shoulders were like balls of granite fighting their way out of the straps
on top.

"Brett? Are you hard?" Chloe asked looking down at the front of his skirt
that was obviously trying to hide a protruding cock bulge.

Brett snapped out of his silence and looked down. "What? Huh? Yeah
baby. You're feeling me up for the last hour. Makes me horny. " Brett lied.
Fuck. Oh my god. What the fuck do I do?

Chloe ran her hand down the front of his skirt, pressing into his cock,
rubbing it hard using the spandex body-suit and the polyester skirt as
friction. He looked down at her and smiled. Hmm.. maybe this may work in my
favor.

"Oh babe.  You ARE hard. Mmmm," She licked her lips and moaned as she
grabbed hold if his cock through the skirt and started to stroke him. Brett
gasped at the feeling of her hand squeezing his cock through the
fabric. "You like me dressing you up? You're a sexy bitch, baby." She
started to stroke him faster and faster. "You feel sexy, honey? You're
making me horny, Brett."

Only one sure way to keep this under wraps. I'm gonna have to fuck her.

He grabbed her by the back of the neck and pulled her in for a passionate
kiss. They started to make out feverishly. As they did, Brett kept looking
over her shoulder at themselves in the mirror. His huge muscles, short
skirt, smooth legs, flawless make-up. He was the hardest he has ever been.

He picked up Chloe and hoisted her over his shoulder and threw her down on
his bed.

"Your parents are gone?"

She giggled. "Yeah."

"Good.  I'm gonna fuck you so hard." He lifted her up by her waist.

Her eyes got huge and she let out a squeal. "Yeah?? Baby, what has gotten
into you?"

"Don't know.  I just need to fuck."

"Take off the cheer uniform. You'll rip it."

"NO!" Brett yelled as he sat up.

Chloe snapped back, startled.  The look in his eyes were like something she
had never seen.  They were big and scary. "Brett, baby. You can't wear that
if your gonna fuck me." She said quietly.

Brett now realized what he just did.  He needed to recover, again. He
smiled. "Of course, baby. What the fuck am I thinking?" He laughed
nervously.

He got up and stripped out of the skirt and one-piece. He stopped and
looked at himself again in the mirror.  Fuck it.  He pulled the skirt back
on and mounted the bed.

Chloe looked at him with a confused face. "Ah?aren't you going to take that
off?"

"Nope." Brett said as he leaned forward to kiss her.

"Why not." She asked between kisses.

"Let's spice it up. I already have make-up on and wig on." He said as he
pulled her shorts off and threw them on the floor. "Let's just go with it."

"Hmmm? you are KINKY tonight! I think I like this new you." She said
excited and pulled off her blouse.

He dove down between her thighs, he flipped his wig hair back and out of
his face then started to eat out her sweet pussy.

"Brett! Oh yeah! Right there, right there!" Chloe moaned and thrashed on
the bed. She loved it when Brett went down on her.

Brett looked up at her, reached up with one hand and massaged her left
tit. Squeezing and flicking her nipple with his thumb.

"Fuck, baby! Oh yeah, you sexy bitch!"

Brad heard that and his boner became as hard as concrete.  It almost hurt.

"Brett, fuck me, baby.  Fuck me!" Chloe was in the throes of ecstasy.

Brett crawled up on top of her and made out with her as he lifted both of
her legs. He looked down to see his washboard abs disappearing into the
waistband of the short skirt.  His cock, hard and leaking, sticking up and
out with the hem of the skirt resting on top. He found her cunt, took aim
and sank into her.

She moaned and cooed as he slowly began to fuck her, holding her legs up
and out to the sides. He looked down at his cock and the skirt draped over
the top of it as he pushed in and out of her cunt.  His pink bob wig

"Oh, Brett. Oh my god! So good!  So fucking good!" She was leaning up,
running her hands all over his chest and abs. "You're so beautiful,
baby. Such a fucking sexy girl. Yeah, we need to do this more
often..Ah?.Ah?..Ahhhhhh!" She threw her head back and screamed.

Brett smiled down at her. "Yeah? You like this? You think I'm a sexy girl?"

"Mmmm hmmm." Chloe teased.

As he fucked her he started to imagine what he would look like in her
position. Laying back, legs up and out, some hot, muscular jock grabbing
his ankles and fucking his tight ass. The guy calling him a sorts of names
like baby, babe, bitch, cunt, pretty, girl. Anything that made him feel
like a hot, beautiful muscle?girl?

When he imagined this scene, his cock erupted and he let loose a torrent of
cum into her pussy. He yelled loudly at the ceiling, his pink hair flung
back as he came the hardest he ever has in his young life. He pulled out
and lay down beside his girlfriend. Both breathing hard trying to catch
their breath.

"Jesus, Brett. What the fuck? That was amazing." Chloe said as she stroked
his abs.

Bret lay back and stared at the ceiling.  He was smiling. His hand slid
down and he rubbed the material of the skirt against his smooth thigh.

"Yeah, I know, right?"  Brett smiled again.

"I think we need to do that again, babe.  Fuck, if this is what you fuck
like when you wear my skirt, I wonder how you fuck when you're wearing my
panties?" She giggled.

His dick twitched again at that thought. He let out a nervous
chuckle. "Nah, babe. I think this is a one-time thing. Besides, I think I
would stretch out your panties." He laughed as he stroked her cheek.

"I dunno, honey.  I think we have tapped into something here.  It's fucking
hot."

"Maybe you're a lesbian." Brett snickered.

"So," she said nonchalantly, "girl on girl is hot too. I've kissed another
girl before. Besides, you would watch me with another girl. You know you
would. It's like every guy's fantasy."

"Oh, is it?" Brett said, playing dumb. Brett stopped to think. Maybe she
thinks the same about guy on guy. He slowly and nervously asked, "Would
you? want to? you know? watch me with another guy?"

"Hell yeah I would!" She squealed.

Brett turned his head to look at her. "Wait, you would?" He said surprised.

"Hell yeah, sweetie." She pinched his cheek.  "See you with another guy who
looks like you going down on each other. You would look hot kissing another
guy. It would make me so wet, baby!"

Brett smiled again. "Like who?"

"Who would I want to see you kiss?"

"Yeah."

"Ah, let's see. He'd have to be hot like you. Tall and built like you. Oh I
know! How about Toby?"

"What?! Your ex?"

"So. You two together would be so amazing. Big, strong musclemen struggling
for dominance."

"Dude." He always called her dude when they were goofing around. "You know
how much I hate that guy.  He's a fucking prick." He looked at the ceiling
again. "Chloe, he's your fucking ex-boyfriend. That's not even cool,
Chloe."

"Brett, I don't want you to date him.  I want you to fuck him." Chloe
laughed.

"No way. I really fucking hate him. For some reason he finds joy in fucking
with me. It's been worse since we started dating."

"Well I think it would be hot. It's like revenge for me.  To see him bent
over taking a dick in his ass would be closure for me, especially my
boyfriend's dick. What a fucking rush. The ultimate show of power. Taking
another guy's ass and making it yours." She smiled an evil grin. "You want
to see me happy, don't you? You're both so hot, babe."  Brett gave her a
squinty-eyed look. Damn, this girl is fucking crazy. She's thought about
this alot. She's crazy but she IS a damn good fuck.

"Well it won't happen. He may be almost as hot as me but his personality
makes him an asshole." Brett sat up and threw up his hands. "Wait, why are
we talking like this could happen? See, you killed my boner." Brett took
his dick and flopped the flaccid monster up and down on his abs.

"Ah-ha! You just said he was hot!" She said in a "gotcha" tone. "That means
you would consider it."

Of course Brett thought Toby was hot. The dude had an incredibly ripped
body. He loved to show it off, everywhere. He never missed a chance to take
off his shirt in public. The biggest thing about Toby that Brett loved to
hate was whenever Toby wore his tight leggings to practice. They all wore
leggings under their game uniforms but he would wear them during practice
without shorts over them.  To one up him, Brett started wearing them
short-less as well. It was like a competition to see who could out sexy the
other. He hated that Toby was so hot because the dude was cocky, arrogant
and just a prick. All the guys at school respected Brett more than
Toby. Brett was an inspiration, he was everything a guy would want to be
and every guy wanted to be him. Every girl wanted to be fucked by
him. Brett had been accused of being like Toby sometimes, he probably was,
no, he definitely was. He just didn't like having to compete with another
guy who was just like him, let alone a guy who looked just as hot as he did
in spandex.

"I'm not blind, of course he's hot. I can admit when another guy is
attractive. I'm very secure in my masculinity.  Doesn't mean I want to fuck
him." Brett threw his hands up. "Can we stop talking about your
ex-boyfriend fucking me in the ass?"

"Ah-Ha! You're afraid he WOULD want to fuck you. I mean, look at you right
now, you're awful purdy." She said in a hillbilly voice. "Toby might find
you purdy too if he saw you like this."

"He will see me like this, silly girl, "he said playfully, "tonight he'll
be dressed like me too."

"I know. But he hasn't had sex with you dressed like this?yet"

"oh, shut up, dirty girl." He replied smiling.

Suddenly Brett had a flash in his head of himself, laying on his back, his
legs being held up by strong hands. His legs resting on the shoulders of
another guy.  It's dim and he can't make out who it is. His smooth legs are
encased in black fishnet stockings, his calves resting on muscular
shoulders while the man is fucking him hard. His stockinged feet pointed to
the ceiling as he takes the man's cock.  He's loving feeling the cock and
seeing his muscular, stockinged legs up in the air. Suddenly the man grabs
his ankles and holds them up and out. His legs are spreading wide and he
feels like a wishbone about to be broke in half.  He sees his quads flex
and stretch inside the stockings. He looks up and the man leans forward
into the light. It's Toby. "Yeah baby, you're a good girl. My girl. Tight,
tight pussy. My sexy muscle-girl." Toby whispered to him. "I'm gonna get
you pregnant." Brett was shocked back to reality. He couldn't believe he
just imagined himself being fucked like a bitch by Toby, the guy he hated
most. The worst thing was, he was rock hard again.

"Come on. We need to get going or you're going to be late for the game."
Brett took her hand and pulled her off the bed. She dressed while Brett put
the rest of his uniform back on. Afterwards, he gave her nice long kiss and
they left for the game.

For the next six months they continued to date and from time to time Chloe
dressed Brett in sexy negligees, lace panties even a corset, it made them
both so hot they would fuck for hours. Her favorite thing to see him
wearing were sheer thigh high stockings and a garter-belt, his dark hair
parted on the side and slicked back, blood red lipstick on his pouty
lips. His clean-cut, All-American-Boy good looks not feminine but just
softer. His cut six-pac disappearing into the black, lacey material of the
garter-belt. His quads stretching the stockings, the seams running down the
back of his muscular hamstrings accentuated the curves of the muscle. Brett
was always game, which for some reason Chloe never gave a second thought
about it. She didn't know, however, that Brett was really into it and he
actually had to hold back his excitement, often claiming he was so drunk or
stoned that he didn't know what he was doing.

Towards the end of their relationship, about six months, Chloe introduced
Brett to toys. She showed him how he could orgasm with butt play. Brett,
dressed in crotch-less panties and fishnet thigh-highs, she eased him back
and spread his legs. She took out a red vibrating dildo, lubed it up,
turned it on and touched his smooth hole. It felt amazing! He felt his hole
vibrate and it sent waves of pleasure up through his ass and into his dick
which was rock hard. After a few minutes she began to push the dildo into
his tight, bubble ass. She went slowly, giving him time to get used to
it. Slowly over the next twenty minutes she had worked the dildo all the
way into Brett's asshole. Hit hurt at first but Chloe took it slow and
easy. Brett was breathing slow and loud through his nose. When she got it
all the way in, she turned it up to full vibrate and Brett about lost his
shit. His ass came up off the bed, he arched his back and then he flopped
back down again onto the bed. Chloe laughed a sinister laugh. She began to
move it in and out, vibrating his prostate every time she pushed in. Brett
was writhing and tossing himself on the bed.  He couldn't believe the
feeling. She started to fuck him faster and faster until his legs lifted
off the bed and they levitated up and out to the sides. His hands were
holding fistfuls of sheets turning his knuckles white. When he couldn't
take it anymore, his eyes rolled back and he screamed as he shot cum up all
over his own face and the wall behind them.

That was his introduction to butt sex. They played with her vibrator a few
more times until one night he decided to surprise her, showed up late one
night when her parents were out and caught her getting banged by none other
than Toby and she was loving it. An Altercation ensued and the end result
was Toby on the floor, bruises to his face, bloody lip and
unconscious. Needless to say, the broke up.

This was the beginning of his new obsession. He was now suddenly without
Chloe who he felt he could somewhat be himself with, sexually. It would be
another year before he felt comfortable experimenting with his feminine
side again. It started again when he met Sarge and was talked into training
for Mr. Teen USA.


______Back to the present_______________


The guys laughed again making the locker room echo.

His buddy Joel was standing beside him when he came out of his memory
trance, "Brett, if anyone can pull off superhero, it's you, bro.  We're
just jealous, dude. Not many dudes can pull off school, football AND
competing." He patted Brett on the back. "We are not worthy." He yelled as
he bowed down to Brett in jest. The rest of the guys repeated Joel, bowing
down as if paying homage to the king.

Brett smirked, "Whatever, you a-holes!" He laughed.

About that time the coach's assistant, Kyle, stuck his head around the
corner. "Hey, Brett. Coach wants to see you. Now."

"Cool.  Be right there." He threw the rest of the stuff into his locker and
made his way down a long hall to the coach's office.

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Chapter 2

Brett strutted into Coach McKillip's office and shut the door behind him.

Coach McKillip was busy grading papers when Brett sauntered in.

"Nice of you to show?"

Coach stopped in mid-sentence and did a double when he glanced up from his
desk to see Brett standing in front of him, legs taking a wide stance, big,
muscular arms folded over his pumped up pecs, dressed in head to toe blue
skin-tight spandex.

"?up, Danvers."

"Sorry, Coach. I was at the gym?"

Coach immediately looked down at his desk again, "Yeah, yeah, I know. You
were at the gym and you lost track of time. Same bullshit."

"Sorry. As soon as this competition is over I won't be late anymore. Sarge
has me on this brutal leaning-out phase right now so my mind is mush."

"You know I regret the day I introduced you to him."

"Why?"

"Because he's pulling your focus away from the game."

"You wanted him to build me up. That's what he's done."

"He was supposed to build you up for football not for fitness
competitions."

"I didn't know you were so pissed off."

Coach McKillip was pissed. His best player was showing up late for
practices, give him attitude and was spending way too much time showing off
his body. This kid took every chance he could get to show off all of his
gains from the weight room. Coach couldn't deny the kid looked amazing. He
often would just sit back and watch the boy stretch before practice and
games. He was incredibly limber for a guy his size. He once saw Brett do
the splits. Brett always wore spandex tights, leggings or shorts. It's like
the kid needed to show off his ass. That ass was something that could turn
the straightest guy gay. Gay for a day at least. That ass was high, tight,
muscular, a deep dimple on each one and hard as granite.  Coach never
thought of himself as gay, maybe bi, but since Brett had made these drastic
changes and made his body into something that should be carved from stone,
he had to admit that he sometimes thought what it would be like to sink his
cock into that big, round bubble he called an ass. He continually thought
to himself, "That thing has got to be tight as fuck.  IT HAS TO BE."

Coach sometimes felt guilty for having those thoughts about the kid. He had
no trouble with the thought of fucking an ass. He had fucked around in
college with dudes but never really committed to it and they were always
older guys. He dated girls and eventually married one. He thinks it might
be just because he was supposed to be a mentor to the kid. He was supposed
to inspire him and motivate him, not lust after him. Anyone else was fair
game but Brett was different. Every day it was a struggle to stop thinking
the sexual thoughts he had whenever he looked at Brett.

Truth be told, Coach was also a little jealous of Brett. He really had no
reason to be. Coach McKillip was 31 years old and didn't look a day over
25. He kept himself in top condition because he saw himself as a role model
to the guys on his team. He often would workout with the boys and even ran
drills with them during practice. He was ruggedly handsome. Brown hair, a
neatly trimmed beard that framed his square jaw and brought out his green
eyes. His build was from his daily workouts with the boys and he also
coached a few classes at a Crossfit box near his house. He could be
intimidating with his 6'3" frame and big muscles packed into a strong,
masculine body with a gruff attitude and hardly ever a smile.

Why was he jealous? He saw himself in Brett every day. In high school he
was the guy that everyone wanted to be. He was the guy that everyone
envied.  He could get any girl he wanted, still can but for Brett it was so
much easier. Coach excelled in sports in high school and college. He played
football, baseball and was a state champion wrestler. His college and high
school singlets hung proudly, pressed in glass frames on the wall above his
desk. His office was littered with trophies. He liked to look on the faces
of anyone who walked into his office and were confronted with trophies and
awards everywhere they looked. He worked hard for every single one. But
Brett? Brett was a show off, a braggart, and everything came to him so
easy. He didn't need to put in long hours in the gym or stay after practice
to work on any flaws.  He just didn't have any. On top of all that, the kid
was walking sex on legs. The kid was handsome, built, popular and sexy as
shit. The way he carried himself with such confidence was also
intimidating. Even though he was Brett's coach and mentor, he sometimes
felt very inadequate. That's one reason he was so hard on Brett. He had to
show Brett that he wasn't the one in charge and he couldn't get away with
all his cocky attitude.

He introduced him to The Sarge because he thought Sarge would show him some
discipline and knock him down a few rungs. They had known each other for
quite some time. It started off as a quick hook up at the gym when Coach
was in college and Sarge was a young marine stationed near by.  It then
evolved into an occasional fuck now and then when they could find the
time. The Sarge was a man not to be messed with, a real bad-ass. One would
never guess the tough guy loved to get fucked by younger guys. He could be
a fucking prick when he wanted to be but in the sheets? A total bitch. A
bitch in more ways than one. It wasn't uncommon for Doug McKillip to fuck
the man while the man was wearing lacey lingerie; panties, thongs,
stockings. Sarge never dressed in drag. He just liked to be able to feel
what it's like to be a woman when getting dicked by a man. Doug thought it
was strange at first, even weirded out a little but after the first couple
times of plowing that bodybuilder, fucking him through a hole in his nylons
or fishnets, hearing the man moan and beg to be bred, he was hooked.

Doug never really thought Sarge would take advantage of Brett. He trusted
him enough to know that wouldn't happen and it hadn't. The problem was that
Sarge was too good at what he did. He built the kid up, literally and
figuratively, and gave him so much confidence that Brett wasn't scared of
anyone or anything. Brett and Toby were constantly at each other's throats
and a few times Brett was just asking for Toby to fuck him up. They may be
the same size but Toby is a mean motherfucker. He always acts like he has
something to prove. Sarge's discipline backfired and instead of showing
Brett how a good football athlete should train, he instead showed him how a
good bodybuilder should train. The damn kid's body responded so well that
Brett became obsessed with his physique. The kid looked good. He just
wished Brett would focus more on football than bodybuilding. At least the
kid was natural and not roiding. I guess that's one positive.

"I wouldn't be pissed if you showed up to practice on time. I already
handed out the new uniforms. Yours is over there on the bench"

"Ok."

"Whoa! Hold up cowboy. You need to try on the pants here and if they don't
fit I can change them out with Lawson's.  I think we got yours and his
sizes mixed up but some moron forgot to write it down."

"Oh. Uh.. I'll just go into the locker room and try them on. Be right
back." Brett panicked remembering he was still wearing a thong and today it
was a lace thong.

"Hey. Muscles. Just do it here for christ's sake. Try them on and if they
don't fit, put them right back in the bag and give them to Lawson."

"I'll try them on outside and then give them to him if they don't fit."

"Danvers! Why are you being such a little bitch right now? Just fucking try
them on, NOW!"

Coach continued to grade papers as Brett held out the small, shiny, royal
blue spandex pants out in front of himself. Fuck, these were going to be so
tight and look so good on his legs and ass. God damn he better not get a
boner in front of the coach. He scanned the pants up and down, his eyes
darted to coach and then back to the pants several times before he finally
set them down beside him on the chair. He kept looking at coach while he
slowly hooked his thumbs into the top of his tights and proceeded to push
them down his big, muscular thighs. Maybe if he stood behind the chair
facing the coach, ass to the wall, the coach wouldn't notice he was wearing
a thong. He looked up again and coach was still looking down at his
desk. He pulled the tights off his feet and grabbed the pants off the
chair. He stayed behind the chair, ass to the wall as he stepped into the
new football pants. Oh shit these feel amazing. So tight and they slid
right up his slick, smooth thighs.

"So?" The coach asked without looking up. "Fit?"

The pants got tighter and tighter as Brett pulled them up closer to his
ass. The waistband stretching and stretching to make it over his fat,
muscular ass. Brett grunted a little while giving the waistband short, hard
tugs.

Coach looked up when Brett grunted. He smiled and shook his head as Brett
was pulling up hard on the waistband. The coach's eye's turned into saucers
as he watched Brett struggling to pull up the tight spandex pants. The boy
was standing behind a chair but he was standing in front of a glass trophy
case, a very reflective trophy case. The reflection betrayed Brett as Coach
glimpsed a black lace thong squeezed tight between Brett's thick glutes.
The boy didn't seem to notice the coach staring into the reflection behind
him.

Coach couldn't believe what he just saw. "Is my best player wearing lace
panties? Holy shit. My best player is wearing lace panties. Fucking Sarge."

The pants slowly inched their way up Brett's huge quads and bubble-butt and
snapped around his tiny waist. The coach collected himself. He had to play
it cool.

Coach snickered.

"Well I guess that's what happens when you heavy squats. Makes your butt
too big."

"Yeah, I think these are too small?" Brett said as he tied up the front
laces.

"Nonsense," Doug McKillip grinned, "they're fine."


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