Date: Tue, 25 Oct 2016 05:36:28 +0000
From: tom davis <underarmour001@hotmail.com>
Subject: Bodybuilder Muscle Girl- Part 4

Bodybuilder Muscle Girl- Part 4

Brett's workout with Sarge was one of the hardest yet. The contest was
coming soon and he was getting more and more excited every day. Each day
his body seemed like it transformed more and more, more cut, more
vascular. He knew it was cocky but he couldn't stop looking at himself in
the mirrors. His compression gear couldn't contain the amount of muscle
packed into them.  The shirt was stretched so tight that it looked like it
was going to shred itself. The arch in his back was accentuated but the
skin-tight clothes, made to look smaller because of his big, bulbous ass
that was also packed into second-skin tights. He was the envy of every guy
in the gym. His perfect proportions were sought after by other gym-rats
like himself. His body just responded so well to the weights like it was
their destiny to just grow hard and huge. He wasn't bulky, just
streamlined, sleek and proportioned.

They were done for the night. They were almost the only ones left. While
re-racking their weights, Brett thought now was a good time to ask Sarge
about Toby.

"So, you know Toby." He said as a statement.

Sarge looked over at Brett and smiled. Here we go.

"Yep. I've been working with him. Nice kid. Kind of a dick but still, nice
kid.

"Yeah he is.  So how did you guys meet?"

"Actually, through one of the boosters for the team."

"Oh." Brett reached down and grabbed his water jug and took a drink. "Which
one?"

Sarge was silent. He looked at Brett and squinted his eyes,
thinking. Should he just spill it? Should I let him work for it? What the
fuck.

"You know Patrick Brady, right?"

Brett remembered him alright. If ever there was a guy who fit the term
DILF, it was him.  Forty-eightish years old, salt n pepper hair, ex-jock,
played a year of pro football in his 20's until he blew out his knee. He
was tall, lean, and so handsome. He's been a booster ever since his two
boys started playing football. Both were in college now and both were
playing ball too. Each one just as good looking, clones of their hot dad.

"Yeah, I know Mr. Brady."

"He knows Toby through one his boys. James, I think. I guess the boy kept
asking him about making his body bigger and stronger for football since he
trained his boys when they were in high school. Damn good athletes they
turned out to be.  Toby wants a scholarship. Patrick and I met through the
boosters as well so he sent him to me.  Patrick is like a father to him,
pays for the training and everything."

"Huh."  This was all interesting news to him. "He lied to me. He told me
the coach set it all up with you. Why would he lie?"
 He wondered how Toby was paying for Sarge, he's not cheap. If not for his
sponsors and Sarge he wouldn't be able to pay for it either. His parents
didn't have that kind of money.

"Don't know. Guess he didn't want you to know about Patrick Brady."

"Why not?"

"Don't know, Brett."

Sarge grabbed his water and his lifting gloves and they started towards the
parking lot. The few guys who were still working out watching them exit the
weight room. How could you not watch them? Two specimens. Some guys assumed
they were father and son, an assumption that both men would be proud of.

"You and Toby buddies?" Sarge asked as the left the front doors.

"Oh, yeah. Not that close. We're on the team so I hang with him sometimes."
Brett was trying to be careful about the questions he asked. He would have
thought Coach would have mentioned Sarge was training his biggest rival.

"Ok. I thought you guys hated each other. I seem to remember you telling me
you punched him out."

"Oh yeah, well that was about Chloe. It's all good now. We buried that
hatchet." He stretched the truth a bit.

"Ah. That's good."

Sarge saw where this was going. They found out about each other. It's the
only explanation. Plus, he knew from talking to Doug that these two studs
hated each other. He hadn't told Doug about Toby because he had already
taken on a lot with Brett. Doug was already pissed at him for turning Brett
on to bodybuilding and to the lace. Although Sarge also knew it turned him
the fuck on. He wasn't about to tell Doug that another football player of
his was into the lace. The lace is what he referred to the kink of wearing
women's undergarments. Besides, this was between himself and Patrick
Brady. He knew Toby and Brett must obviously know about the other because
two dudes who hated each other that much didn't just chat about knowing the
same person. They were too busy beating each other up. I guess it is time
Brett was to know what was going on.

They stood in the parking lot next to Sarge's truck. It was late at night
and one of the only vehicles left.

"Hey. We need to talk." Sarge said. He leaned with his forearms resting on
the truck bed, Brett next to him, leaning with his back on the side.

"Ok. About?" Brett's heart was pounding in his chest. He suspected that
Sarge knew about him and Toby and he was about to find out for sure. He
hoped.

"You and Toby." Sarge stared straight ahead, not looking Brett in the
eye. "You two know."

Now he was speaking in code. How did Brett want to play this. He decided to
play along.

"If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, yeah."

Sarge turned his head and looked at the muscle boy. "And?"

Brett folded his big arms across his chest and took a deep breath.

"Well. I don't know. It's kind of weird."

"Ok."

"We both like it."

"Ok, good."

"Yeah, it's like we're the same person."

"Maybe you are. You both have the same personality, temperament. You hated
each other so much because you are too much alike."

Brett was silent for a few minutes. Sarge let him stew. He didn't want to
rush him. This was a big step.  After a few minutes he broke the silence.

"Brett, you know you can tell me anything. No judgement. I love you like a
son."

Brett's stomach flipped-flopped. Hearing that from Sarge was like a dream
come true. His biggest inspiration said he loved him like a son. An
overwhelming sense of warmth and love came over his body. And if he was
being honest, it made his dick twitch.

Brett was still quiet. He wanted to say it but the words were stuck in his
throat. He was starting to get emotional but he tried to hold it in. He
didn't want to look weak in front of his mentor. He took a huge deep breath
and let it out.

"We kissed." He said quietly. Almost a whisper.

Sarge lowered his head down to his forearms on the edge of the truck
bed. Staring at the pavement.  He was smiling a huge grin.  About fucking
time. Now we're getting someplace. This worked out better than I
thought. Not one but two athletes turned.

He put on a serious face. He stood up straight and leaned his thighs
against the truck bed. He was starting to get a little hard and didn't want
Brett to see it just yet.

"Ok. So?"

"I liked it."

"Ok. You liked it. So, now you know you may be into guys."

"I don't know. I mean, I guess so. I know I'm into Toby. I notice other
guys too, I always have, deep down. I know when another guy is hot and I
know when another guy thinks I'm hot."

Sarge laughed. "Dude, EVERYONE thinks you're hot!"

"You know what I mean." Brett said frustrated.

"Sorry. Yeah I get it. So where does it go from here?"

Again, silence. Brett opened his mouth to say it but he kept
stuttering. Fuck it.

"He... he...wants to fuck me."

Sarge looked up at the sky, pushed his hardening dick into the side of his
truck.  Holy fucking shit, YES!  He looked at Brett.

"Really? What do you want?"

Brett looked down at the ground. His voice was a whisper as if he feared
someone was listening. "I want him to fuck me."

Saying it out loud was liberating. He finally told someone what he was
feeling. His cock started to stiffen inside his tights.

"Well then, I guess you're gonna get fucked." Sarge smiled.

"That's not all. He wants to fuck me while I'm in panties and stockings,
garter, corset, heels. The whole thing."

Sarge took a deep breath and tried to envision the whole thing. Fuck. Now
he was rock hard.

"Brett, I think that's great."

"You do?" Brett turned his head and looked at Sarge. He wasn't expecting
that.

"Yeah. You need to be who you are. You've found a couple of guys who
understand so it's going to be easier for you to do that. You're not
alone."

"A couple of guys?"

Sarge chuckled, "Toby...and me."

Brett was silent yet again. Ok. This makes sense now. Lacy thongs,
tights. He was a tiny bit shocked but not too bad.

"So, you are into it too? Dressing in chic lingerie?" Saying it out loud
didn't sound as awful as he thought. He trusted Sarge, even more now.

"Yeah, Brett. And trust me, I know from experience that getting fucked
while wearing stockings and heels...is fucking amazing."

Brett's cock was rock hard, pushing the front of his tights out. Sarge
gazed down and saw Brett's erection tenting his tights out. He turned his
body and leaned his back against the truck next to Brett. Brett looked down
and Sarge too was hard. He thick cock, still stuffed in his thong was
trying to break though. Sarge slid his hand down the front of his tights
and pulled his cock free of the thong. Now his cock was pointing up, the
tights outlining it.

"Damn." Brett slowly reached over, looked up at Sarge, looking for
permission in his eye. Sarge smiled. Brett place his hand over Sarge's
cock, running his hand over the tight slick material encased over his
cock. He rubbed the thick cock, making Sarge sigh.  He guessed the cock had
to be six to seven inches but very thick. He gripped the cock through the
spandex and tugged. Sarge closed his eyes. God he's wanted this to happen
for so long.

"Oh geez, Brett."

Brett looked up into Sarge's blue eyes as he rubbed.

"You're so hot." His eyes entranced.

Sarge smiled. "Oh baby, what am I going to do with you?"

Brett looked around to make sure they were alone in the dark. He turned and
leaned against Sarge, chest to chest and he pushed his cock up against
Sarge's. He humped the older man's cock, feeling them sliding against each
other. The tights making the sensations more erotic. He put his arms around
Sarge's small waist and cupped that amazing ass and squeezed.

"I've wanted for this for so long."

Sarge did the same and cupped Brett's unbelievable ass, digging his fingers
into the deep cleft between the boulder hard cheeks.

"That makes two of us. You're my champion. You're the greatest thing I have
ever made. We're a great team."

Sarge brought Brett's chin up and kissed him. Just a short one. Brett
pulled back and looked into his eyes. Then he kissed Sarge again. This time
it was long, sensual, his mouth filled with Sarge's tongue. Their arms
wound around each other, bear hugging each other's hard muscular
bodies. Their cocks rubbing against each other. Both men thrusting forward
trying to get the most of the erotic pleasure.

Brett broke the kiss.

"Sarge, I fucking gotta have you."

"What about Toby?"

"I don't fucking care about him right now. I have a feeling he's already
done all this."

Sarge laughed. "Yeah, he has."

"I want to hear all about that!"

 "I think that can wait." Sarge messed Brett's hair a bit. "I think we
should continue this at my place. Get in. We can get your car later. The
last thing I need is to be seen in a dark parking lot making out with a hot
sixteen year old kid."

Brett was literally shaking. His system was in shock. He was so excited
that he didn't know if you could handle this much emotion, like he would
explode.

"Sweet."

They both climbed in the monster truck and immediately started to make out
again. Eventually Sarge started the truck, revving the loud obnoxious
engine and they were off.


Toby rang the doorbell next to the double, frosted glass doors of the huge
modern house, all glass and steel.  It was amazing all lit up, the huge
glass floor to ceiling windows illuminating the inside of the luxurious
dwelling.

He was nervous, his stomach has butterflies. He shouldn't have this problem
by now, he's been doing this for a little while now. He was wearing his
workout gear as he was always instructed to do. Matching skin-tight
Underarmour tights and sleevless shirt. Tonight the outfit of the evening
was to be a pair of black, faded to gray patterned tights with the word
UNDERARMOUR printed in yellow down one side of the right leg. His tight
shirt matched the tights, black to gray fade patterns, a black panel on the
back. His arms were pumped from his workout and the sleeveless shirt only
made them look bigger. His swollen pecs were like small pillows trapped
under the tight fabric. You could see his eight-pak abs through the
shirt. His small waist, the arch of his back, his ass high and tight. He
finished the look with black UA Cross-Fit trainers and the sexiest part, a
black ball UA cap pulled down snug, the bill almost hiding his eyes. He
looked like the epitome of an athlete, lean mean and ready to throw down.

The door opened after a few seconds. The man scanned the boy up and down. A
huge smile appeared on his face.

"Fuck."  He whispered, stood back and opened the door wider.

"Hey." Toby grunted as he stepped in and the man closed the door and locked
it. Toby was a boy of few words. He never quite knew what to say in these
situations. He didn't really need to say anything anyway. It wasn't words
that the man was after. The man liked what he saw and Toby loved it. That's
what being a closet exhibitionist is all about.

Without a word, the man turned and started walking up the stairs leading up
the master suite. Silently Toby followed the tall man. Toby barely avoided
tripping up the stairs because he couldn't take his eyes off the ass in
front of him.  The bubble butt was snug inside a custom tailored pair of
black dress pants. His thighs filled the legs of the pants perfectly. The
shiny black leather dress shoes were sexy on the muscular man. The fitted
white dress shirt was packed tight with lean muscle, showing off his broad
shoulders and small waist, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows presenting
thick tan forearms.

They entered the master suite and the man turned the lights down low. He
sat on the edge of the foot of the bed, then leaned back, supported by his
strong arms behind him. His red tie was loose around his muscular neck, top
button undone and his handsome face was serious with a hint of a smile. His
thick, extremely wavy, black, salt-n-pepper hair, parted on the side, the
rest swept back. Toby could see the front of the man's dress pants and he
could tell he was starting to get hard while staring at the young
jock. Once again, an adrenaline rush jolted through him knowing that by
just standing still, he made another man bone up. The man looked like a
sexy Clark Kent in transition to becoming Superman, just missing the
glasses.

Toby knew what to do but he liked to be told. He stood in the middle of the
room facing the huge king-sized bed. He just stood there, perfectly
still. He flexed his muscles, his quads popped, every muscle seen through
the second-skin tights. He pecs bulged and his arms swelled. He flexed
every muscle and held everything in that state as the man swept his eyes up
and down the magnificent body.

"Turn." The man said monotone.

Toby released the tension and slowly turned around making sure to flex his
ass when it faced the man.

The man licked his lips. His five o'clock shadow, sexy, accentuating his
square jaw. Toby's cock started to stiffen inside his tights.

"Stop." The man reached down and ran his hand over the bulge in the front
of his dress pants. Toby stopped turning now facing the handsome older man.

The man stood and stepped up to the boy. They stood toe to toe. The man
slowly caressed the boy's biceps, stroked his triceps as Toby flexed
them. Toby was staring straight ahead only seeing the man's upper chest,
the bill of his hat tapping against the man's collarbone. The man was
considerably taller, 6'5", compared to his 5'10". He made Toby look small,
even with his pumped up muscular body. The man was just massive.

He stood staring ahead keeping still. He didn't feel comfortable looking
into the man's eyes. He couldn't look. He didn't want the man to see how
much he was enjoying the treatment he was receiving. He had a defiant
stance, a strong intense stare into the man's chest. The whole thing always
made him anxious and flustered. It wasn't a normal thing for a strong jock
like him to be manhandled like a little girl by another dude. It had a
"forbidden fruit" feel to it but at the same time he got a high from the
man admiring his body.

"Look at me." The man said.

Toby slowly raised his head and looked at the man. Trying not to keep eye
contact.

"Look...at...me.. In the eye." The man was stern and grabbed him under the
chin with one hand while lifting it higher.

Toby slowly lifted his eyes and looked into the blue eyes of the man before
him.

"Good Girl." The man patted the side of Toby's face.

Toby heard what he said and his dick got more hard. He gave a quiet
whimper.

"You like that," the man stated as he put his arms around the boy's
neck. It never changes. Toby is always mesmerized by the power and
handsomeness of the man. Toby nodded his head.

"You're a pretty fucker. Big, strong, thick. You're a fucking king on the
field running that ball. One of the best. Aren't you?"

Toby nodded. The man always started off talking about Toby's prowess and
athleticism on the field. It set the mood and pushed all Toby's buttons.

"You're a fucking stud. Strong silent type. Working out, ball cap,
trainers, clothes to show off that man's body...boy's body."

Toby swallowed. The man ground his dick into Toby's abs.

"Big hunk of muscle, showing off, dominating, beating the shit out of
anyone who questions your power and masculinity. You're an asshole. You're
all those things. Aren't you?"

Toby nodded.

"Answer me."

Toby was silent for a few seconds. "Yes, Sir."

The man gripped Toby's chin a little harder. "No. You're not."

Toby closed his eyes. He knew he shouldn't like any of this but it was like
crack to him. He had to follow through. It was like this every time they
were alone.

He opened his eyes. The man knew the conflict that was swirling around in
his head. The man fed off of it. He let go of Toby's jaw.

"You're just a big sexy...jock girl."

Toby whimpered again. His cock hard as concrete.

"Yes. Big sexy girl trying to make believe she's a big sexy boy. But we
both knew better. Don't we?"

Toby nodded.

The man smiled slightly. He leaned down close to Toby's face and gently
kissed the boy on the lips.

Toby's heart raced faster and faster. He knew the man could feel it.

"You look sexy tonight, baby."

"Thank you." Toby replied before the man kissed again. A little more
aggressively.

"Yes, you look sexy in your boy's workout clothes but we know that's just a
cover. Don't we?"

"Yes." Toby answered without a nod.

"Yes, we love to wear our tight sexy clothes to show off that amazing body
to show off, throw your testosterone around, pretending you're a man but
deep down....

The man waited for Toby to finish the sentence.

Toby swallowed hard. "deep down...I am a girl"

"That's right baby. You're my muscle girl. You wearing the lace thong under
your tights?"

"Yes Sir."

"I know you like wearing your manly man clothes but it's time to be
yourself. Would you do that for me sweetheart?"

The man took off Toby's hat and tossed it on the bed. He ran his fingers
through the boy's brown hair. It's all set out for you in your special
cabinet in the walk-in.

"Ok." He started to walk away but the man stopped him.

"Strip out here."

Immediately Toby peeled off the shirt revealing a beautiful smooth chest
and abs. He kicked off his trainers and his socks. He took the waistband of
his tights, turned his ass towards the man and slowly peeled them down his
muscular legs and stepped out of them. The boy stood in front of the man in
nothing but a baby blue lace see-through thong.  He loved the look on the
man's face whenever he revealed the lace.

"Good girl. You look so pretty in those. I see you got waxed smooth too
like I told you to do, good girl." He said as he looked at the muscular
boy, his body completely free of hair, his slick, sleek muscular legs
looking sexy yet still masculine in the sexy French-cut thong.

Toby smiled in embarrassment. Shy. He had gone to a waxing salon in a
different town as to keep his secret from anyone in his home town. It was
awkward asking to have his asshole waxed too. It was also painful but the
pain was worth it for the time he spent with the handsome older man.

"Now, go get dressed sweetheart."

The man watched the big muscular jock turn and step into the huge walk-in
closet, the tiny thong hidden in between the bubble butt cheeks. Then the
boy stepped back out.

"Mr. Brady?"

"Yes, baby?"

"Can you put on your suit coat, tonight?"

"You want daddy to wear his sexy suit?"

Toby nodded. "Yes Sir."

"Yes, sweetheart. I'll do that for you."

The boy smiled and stepped back into the closet.

Patrick Brady went over to the chair where he had draped his suit coat. He
pulled the tailored coat on and straightened his tie in the mirror. He
stood back and looked at himself. Patrick was a fucking stud and he knew
it. He loved to wear his tailored suits and get admiring looks from women
and men alike. He knew looking like a handsome GQ model in a sexy tailored
suit was a weakness for almost anyone.  He always got what he wanted. The
best example being Toby.

---------------------------------------------

I knew I wanted that boy since the first time James brought him home to
hang out just under a year ago. The boy wasn't as big as he is now but he
was still prime muscle boy. He was polite and shy. Quiet. Brooding. But
every once in a while I would look at him and catch him looking at me. He
would suddenly turn away hoping I didn't see him.  This happened many times
the first few times he hung out at our house. I knew there was something
there. I knew he had a girlfriend and according to my son, they fucked
constantly but there was just something about him.  Something I needed to
investigate further.

That first time he came over and the boys used the pool. He seemed so shy
and closed off that I was surprised when he came out of the pool house in a
tight little red speedo. For such a quiet kid, he was uninhibited when it
came to his body. The kid knew he was hot shit and he wasted no one's time
not showing off, he showed off every chance he got. That muscular ass was
big and tight, the speedo could barely contain the muscular ass. He had an
attitude about him. Actually, he was kind of a dick. He was confident, knew
he was hot and knew he was an excellent athlete. I blocked out the cocky
dickishness, although his cockiness was sexy. It was so hard for me to not
to stare. My kid didn't give him shit for wearing a skimpy speedo since he
was wearing a black one. He was on the swim team for a couple of years and
was used to wearing them. That boy and my kid, running around the pool,
tight muscle boy bodies in tight speedos. I decided to make it my goal to
nail this kid and nail him whether he wanted it or not.

I started to encourage James to bring Toby around more. He liked the kid,
despite the kid being an asshole when he wanted to be, so he brought him
around almost daily. Our house became the "hangout house." James would
bring around all his hot friends. I don't know how but all his friends look
like they stepped off the pages of an A&F magazine but Toby, not too pretty
but very attractive none the less.  He was special. The hottest of all of
them. He had a way of making one feel like less masculine just by being in
his presence. I like a guy who can do that, presents more of a challenge.

I've had my fair share of hooking up with dudes, young and old ever since
college. I consider myself bi. It was hard to mess around when I was
married but once I got divorced, I threw caution to the fucking wind and
started fucking guys a lot more than chics.

There was always a plethora of hot boys horsing around the pool. James's
older brother, David, was older. He was a freshman in college, James was a
senior in high school at the time. There was a couple of years of age
difference between Toby and James but it didn't seem to matter. They were
buds who bonded over football. I'm pretty sure James might have been his
only friend. They became best friends and soon our house was like a second
home to Toby. It wasn't uncommon for him to come over when James wasn't
home. He had his own key and everything. Sometimes I would come home from
work and Toby would be laying out by the pool tanning that smooth hard
body. Sometimes he would be lounging on the couch playing Play Station or
watching a movie. I would sit and watch with him from time to time. I did
all I could not to jump on that boy, rip off his shorts and fuck him in the
ass. I always got a slight vibe from him. He seemed really interested in my
fitness regimen, my clothes, commenting sarcastically on my attractiveness
as an "old man." Sarcasm still counts as a potential fuck as far as I'm
concerned.

One week, James went to visit his mom out of state. Toby asked if he could
still hang out here even when James was gone. I said "of course. Our home
is your home." So starting that day, he basically moved in. His parents
were divorced and he didn't get along with his step-dad and they were ok
with him hanging out here. James was a good kid and his mom thought Toby
should be hanging around with James since he was such a good
influence. Sure, James was a good influence. I, however, am not.

The first few days were tough. The kid spent most of his time out by the
pool, wearing a different pair of speedos every day. I had decided before
James left to step up my game. I bought a few pair of speedos
myself. Trying them on was the best part. The cute guy who was in charge of
the dressing rooms at the sporting goods store was a real help, picking out
different pairs for me, telling me which ones looked good on me, telling me
how great I looked and that if any dude should be wearing a speedo, it
should be me. Then he sucked my dick. Eh, what are you gonna do?

So anyway, the first day I came home early from work, slid on a bright blue
speedo and joined him by the pool. I had gone to the gym before I got home
so I was pumped, my abs were top-notch, my ass looked amazing. I oiled up,
put on my sunglasses, grabbed some beers and pulled up a lounger right next
to him.

Toby had his earbuds in so he didn't hear me approach. When he realized
someone was next to him he looked up at me, pulled his earbuds out, whipped
off his sunglasses and sat up. His mouth dropped open.

"Hey, Mr. Brady... What's up?" Damn if that boy wasn't 10 shades of red and
a stutter box. "You...you're home ear..early." He could not keep his eyes
off my dick.

"It's such a nice day I thought I would take the afternoon off and sit by
the pool. I was hoping you might be here. I hate to drink alone." I handed
him a beer.

He took the beer, looked at the can and then back to me.

"Really?" He asked.

"I won't tell if you don't."

He was giddy. "Thanks, Mr. Brady. James is so lucky to have you as a
dad. You're cool.

"Thanks Toby and it's just you and me. I think you can call me Patrick."

"Cool...Patrick. Thanks."

"Here's to two hot single guys hanging by the pool, Cheers."

We tapped our beers together.

"Cheers." Toby replied.

We each took a drink and set back on the loungers.

"So, Mr...uh... Patrick, I think it's cool an older guy like you stays in
top shape. No would ever guess you're an old man." He said, teasing.

There he goes again shooting me compliments about my body.

"Fuck off, pretty boy. You know, this is the most I've heard you speak
since I met you," I laughed.

Toby blushed. "Yeah, I'm not that...friendly. I'm kind of a dick." He
smiled.

"Oh I don't know about that. You're just shy. You don't like bullshit and
you don't take it from anyone."

"No. I'm a dick." He laughed again. "I can't help it. I'm good at
everything I do. I work hard on my body and on my game. I'm better than
most guys I know. They're all jealous of me. I'm even better than Danvers
and he knows it."

"Danvers? Brett Danvers?" I played stupid.

"Yeah, that prick. Such an asshole. Whatever."

Brett Danvers, now that's one boy I can't wait to sink my dick into. Brett
and Toby are almost carbon copies. Not twins but they have the same
temperament, same athletic talent, same dedication and drive. Perfect
candidates as fuck boys. And Brett is looking really good, Sarge is
spending my money wisely.  That kid is going to clean up at the fitness
contest and as his sponsor, I plan on having Brett pay me back with his
ass.

"Well, I've got to stay in shape, Toby. I'm in my late 40's and single. How
else am I supposed to get laid?" I laughed.

"Yeah, I don't think you have anything to worry about. I just hope I'm as
fucking hot as you are when I'm your age."

We both became silent, staring at each other. He looked like a deer in a
headlight. He realized he called me hot. Not just hot but fucking hot. He
took a drink of his beer and then looked off in the other direction trying
to act like he didn't say it.

"Toby, I think you will be just as hot when you're 46 as you are now."

Toby blushed again. "Thanks, man. That's cool coming from you."

"Take it as a compliment. These are the best days of your life, young,
handsome, athletic, killer body. Keep it up and you can get laid even
easier at my age than at yours. Everyone loves a hot daddy." I winked and
took another drink.

I could see he was trying to adjust his dick in the tiny speedo. He
suddenly got up and dove into the pool, surely to hide his impending
boner. I started to laugh and I shook my head, amused.

He stayed in the pool awhile. I wanted to tempt the shit out of him so I
decided to skim out some leaves from the pool. I got up, took the skimmer
off the wall and lowered the skimmer into the pool. I was standing there,
arms extended, flexing while holding the long pole out of the water. My
lean muscular legs, wide stance, flexed as I steadied myself while leaning
forward over the pool. I could imagine the boy as he treaded water at the
other end of the pool, staring at me, 6'5, muscular, ripped, tiny blue
speedo plastered to my tight body, hopefully making his boner even
harder. I walked around the pool showing off for him. He couldn't take his
eyes off me. I was fucking loving it.

After an hour of hanging with him I decided to go in and cook up some
dinner. I got up and went into the kitchen, grabbed a couple of steaks and
started prepping them in the outdoor poolside kitchen. I remained in my
speedo as I cooked the boy his dinner. Toby eventually swam over to the
poolside bar surrounding the grill. I gave him another beer. He couldn't
look me in the eye. It was fucking adorable.

We chit chatted about school, the gym, football and scholarships and his
girlfriend. He told me about his aspirations to get a scholarship and play
college ball. Luckily, I have connections and can probably help him but
I'll just keep that in my back pocket for now. It might come in handy
later.

After dinner we changed and watched a little ESPN like two frat bros. He
eventually went home but I could tell he didn't want to. I told him to come
over tomorrow and use the pool again.

"Hey, Patrick, you should take the whole day off, hang out by the
pool. Come on, James is gone. Think of it as a small vaca."

I thought about it. I looked at him in his tight board shorts, stretched
against that plump bubble butt. His big pecs barely fitting into his tight
white wifebeater.  How could I say no to this boy?

"Yeah, you know I haven't taken some time off in a while. The Tesla is paid
for." I smiled.

He smiled. "Sweet. See you tomorrow."

The next morning, I got up early, cleaned the house, stocked up on beer and
snacks. I headed to Crossfit for tough workout to get pumped up for my
muscle boy. It was the best workout of my life, motivated by the hope that
I will be balls deep in this kid by end of day.

I had run to the Box from the house so I ran home with an extra bounce in
my step. As I arrived home, Toby's car pulled into the driveway. I walked
up to the door and held it open for him as he jumped out of the car and
followed me through the door. I grabbed a towel from the bathroom and wiped
the sweat from my forehead, slung it over my shoulder and greeted him again
in the kitchen. Once again, he was staring at me. His eyes flowed up and
down my body.

I tossed him a beer which he guzzled down followed by a loud belch.

"That's attractive." I said sarcastically.

"I like your running tights, Patrick."

"Thanks, I just bought them. I should own stock in Underarmour." I laughed
as I took a drink of water.

I was wearing a pair of running tights that had a black to gray fade
pattern on them. The word UNDERARMOUR in bright yellow, tracking down the
side of my right leg. I also had on the matching sleeveless shirt, same
pattern at the tights with a black panel on the back of the shirt. I had on
black UA trainers and topped it off with a black ball UA cap pulled low
over my eyes, thick black curls of my wavy hair sticking out from under the
back of the hat.

He grabbed another beer.

"I have a pair. I love them."

"Hey, if you got it, flaunt it. Not many guys can pull off this tights."

"Agreed. I only have one pair but I wear them all the time at practice and
when I run."

He guzzled down the second beer like he was at a frat party.

"Dude, slow down with the beers. Pace yourself, big guy."

"I can handle my beer." He said like I was just another buddy and not the
father of his best friend.

"So, you only have one pair?" I asked. I found my opening.

"Yeah."

"Dude, follow me." I said.

He grabbed two more beers and handed me one. I didn't open it. . I didn't
say anything. The more he drank the more he mellowed out and talked.

He followed me up the stairs to my bedroom and into my walk-in closet, well
it was more like a 300 square foot room. I opened a cabinet and showed him
my treasure. Racks and racks of hangars with tights, compression shirts and
shorts. A shoe wall filled with UA and Nike trainers. All the athletic gear
one would need all in one big cabinet

"Wow! Patrick, dude, just fucking wow!" He stared at the clothing.

I laughed, "I know, I know. I might have a tiny spandex fetish or
something."

He reached for a pair of red UA tights with light gray on the ankles that
faded into the red as they went up the leg. He rubbed the lycra between his
forefinger and his thumb. He gently pulled and stretched the fabric.  He
reached for another pair and ran his hand over the shiny material.

"I see you might have one too, big guy?"

He held a leg in his hand and squeezed.

"What? Oh, I dunno. I think tights are cool. If you have the body for them,
I mean. Like you do." He blushed.

"Me? Toby, you would look amazing in these. You should wear them all the
time. Here, tell you what, pick out a few pairs and you can have
them. Shirts too. Hell, shoes, hats, pick out a few outfits. As many as you
want."

"What? No, Patrick. I can't. That's... I can't."

"Yes, you can. I can get more. Seriously, pick out some ensembles."

He looked at me like I was crazy.

"You can go shopping with me to buy some more to replace the ones you
want."

"Really?"

"Toby, I can afford it. You're standing in a 300 square feet closet in a
$2,000,000 house with a $200,000 Tesla in the garage. I think I can spare a
few pairs of spandex tights."

"Anything?"

"Yes. Anything."

That normally quiet, brooding stud was like a kid in a candy store. He
grabbed handfuls of tights, shirts, hats. He stripped down to his speedo he
was wearing under his shorts and tried on every outfit. He stood mesmerized
in the wall mirror, sliding his hands all over his body, sliding over his
muscles that were covered in the tight shiny spandex. This kid was hooked.

The last outfit he tried on, he stood in front of the mirror, turned
sideways and rubbed his hand up and down his ass. Damn, he looked hot.

"Damn, I look hot."

I smirked. "Yeah. That's an understatement."

He again looked at himself straight on in the mirror. He did a double bicep
pose, his biceps popped.

"Yep, this is the one. I'm wearing this to summer training camp when it
starts in a few weeks. I can't wait for Danvers to see me wearing this."

"Why does that matter?"

"He wears something similar to this at every practice. He thinks he's hot
shit. Wait til he sees me. He's not the only one who can wear the shit out
of spandex."

"Well if you wear that you're going to get a lot more attention than
usual. Not that you don't get tons now." I winked.

"I think I want to wear this for the rest of the day."

Oh fuck yes!

"Sure knock yourself out."

He looked at me. In a low quiet, almost little boy voice. "Are you gonna
wear an outfit too?"

Fuck, this kid is adorable. A fucking musclebound stud that could
manipulate the fuck out of anyone with that sweet little boy act.

"Tell you what, I'll keep mine on. Let's grab some lunch and then how about
we drive down to the boardwalk and walk around for a while. Let everyone
get an eyeful."

"Yeah? That sounds awesome."

"Show off." I laughed.

"You fucking know it."

He looked around the "closet" again and walked over to another cabinet. He
opened it and all my custom tailored suits hung inside.

"What's in this one?"

"All my suits. That wall over there are all my dress shoes. The tie closet
is there." I pointed.

He opened the tie closet and marveled at my vast collection. He caressed
the silky ties and felt their softness. He opened a drawer below and found
the dress socks. They were sheer, nylon dress socks in all different
colors. He pulled a pair out and unfolded them. Felt them.

It was funny to watch him. He went through my closet like he owned the
place. I didn't care. I had a hot fucking muscle boy in my closet dressed
head to toe in body hugging spandex and he was practically boning up over
my wardrobe. Damn, I want to marry this kid.

He made it to the back of the room and opened another cabinet, one that was
used on "special occasions."

"What's in here?"

"That was one of my ex-wife's cabinets. She left a ton of shit here. I just
haven't had the time to throw it out." A lie.

He opened it and inside hung all my "ex-wife's" lingerie. Stockings, garter
belts, corsets, silk teddies, lacey bras. He opened the bottom drawer which
held sexy lacey panties and thongs. The bottom rack pulled out to reveal
rows and rows of different pumps; satin, patent leather, stilettos, red,
black, white, two pair of latex thigh high boots in red and black. Black
latex stockings, corset, arm length black latex gloves and panties with
garter-belt hung in the back of the closet. I love a bitch in
lingerie. It's so sexy to fuck a bitch in silky lingerie, crotchless
panties, fishnets, some hot shiny black fuck-me pumps. Grabbing onto those
fishnet nylon covered thighs, hoisting those legs in the hair, resting
those stilettos on my shoulders. So soft and feminine in contrast to my
masculine power, my roughness, my ego. Fuck, that was the best thing about
fucking bitches. And by bitches I mean Sarge.

That former marine stud was a total bitch when it came to getting fucked in
the lace. Hooking up with him was a blessing in disguise. I had no idea
until they were high one night on some damn good weed and Sarge said he had
always wanted to try something. When he came out dressed in fishnets,
corset, panties and heels. I about shit my pants... and then I fucked him.

I watched Toby and he did something I didn't expect of him. He took a pair
of panties, pink lace, ruffles on the ass, and he balled them up in his
hands and then released them. Then he rubbed them gently across his arm. He
held them up and looked at them and then looked down to his waist. He
lowered them down to his waist and looked in the mirror.

"I bet I could even make these look good." He bragged.

Wait. Is he doing what I think he's doing? All a sudden my body tensed
up. My heart skipped in my chest. I suddenly pictured him wearing them. The
pretty lace panties stretched taught across his bubble butt. His masculine
muscles in contrast to the delicate feminine silk.

I chuckled. "Oh I dunno, cowboy. My ex-wife looked sexy as hell in
them. Made me want to fuck her so hard and long whenever she came out
dressed like that." He was staring at me though the reflection in the
mirror. "I don't think you would hold a candle to that hot piece of pussy."

He smiled at me through the mirror. "Huh."

He grabbed the third beer and chugged it down, liquid courage, then he
proceeded to peel off all his gear down to his speedo. He smiled again and
bent over in front of me as he slid his speedo down to his ankles. His
sweet, tight, smooth butt cheeks parting as he bent forward. His hamstrings
prominent as they stretched. He stepped out of the speedo and into the
panties.

"Toby, what are you doing? Come on, you're drunk. Stop jerking off and
let's go eat." I lied.

"So what if I am? We'll eat after I show you how hot these will look on
me."

He pulled them up his muscular legs. He tugged them up as they struggled to
stretch over his muscular ass. Once in place he did a turn in the
mirror. He had no shame or inhibitions.  Of fuck, if they didn't look god
damn hot as hell on him. My jaw dropped.

He grinned at me. "Wow... Soft... Nice..." He rand his over over the front
of the panties. "See, told you. I even make this shit look hot. You think,
old man?"

His cock could hardly be contained in the small see-thru panties.

"Well...uh...uh..."

He smirked. His cockiness went up to a whole other level, like he knew what
he was doing.

"Yeah, I knew it. I bet even Brett couldn't pull this off. Who else but me
can make a pair of fucking gay panties look hot on a stud body like mine?"

"I have to say, for some reason, with all your muscle, you don't look half
bad."

I was still staring at his ass. My mouth was salivating. His eyes were
glassy. He was so drunk.

 "So, who's the hottest piece of pussy now? Me or your bitch ex-wife?" He
asked as he ran his hand over his ruffled ass.

I was hard as a rock. "You. You're the hottest piece of pussy." I laughed
uncomfortably.

"Damn right I am." He sneered at himself in the mirror.

What the fuck? This kid was a totally different person than he was even a
few hours ago. Either that third beer really cut his inhibitions or this
isn't his first time playing dress up. He stared at me through the mirror,
rubbing his hand over his cock though the tight pink lace.

"You think I'm a hot piece of pussy." He stated in a sultry sexy voice.

"Um... yeah. Anyone would think that. " My bone was concrete. It was
stretching my tights.

He stepped closer to me. He took the other beer, number four for him, and
took a few swigs.

"Hey, big guy. You're going to drink me out of house and home. That's
number four."

"So." He said turning slowly in front of me.

"Seems like you're getting hammered for no good reason. Or is there a good
reason?" I stared at him, our eyes meeting.

"Damn dude, you're not my dad." He laughed. "Besides, you're the one who
gave it to me. You're a very bad influence, Patrick Brady." He said in a
sexy lured voice, taunting.

"Yes, but I didn't make you pull on a pair of panties. That was all you,
big guy."  "Fuck it. I don't care what you think."

"Oh, I think you do. Is all this beer liquid courage, maybe?"

He ran his hand over his steel pec and pinched his nipple. He looked at me
again but only with his eyes. His head stayed bent down because he was
watching his fingers pinch his nub.

"Do these panties make you want to fuck me hard and long like your
ex-wife?"

"My, you did need some liquid courage to say that. Didn't you, Toby?" I
laughed.

He smiled but no teeth. All business.

"Courage? I've got boat loads of courage. I don't need booze to give me
courage." He slurred again.

"Yes, but it sure does help. Toby, when I first met you, you hardly said
two words for weeks. Always brooding and quiet. Now all a sudden you're in
my walk-in trying on panties and asking me if I think you're sexy? I got to
say, this is a side of you I did not expect to see."

"Do these panties make you want to fuck me hard and long like your
ex-wife?" He asked again. The big muscle-bound kid flexed his legs and ass
as he turned again, showing me all the results of the hard work from the
gym.

 I swallowed hard. Oh my god. I have a drunk hot as shit sixteen-year-old
muscle boy in my closet, wearing panties asking me if I want to fuck him.

"Toby. You're crossing a line." I whispered.

"Yeah, you want to fuck me. You like me in panties don't you? You want me
to be your wife?"

I said nothing. He took another drink. He was wavering a bit. The alcohol
taking full affect. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and again,
belched. He smiled.

"Good stuff." He said as he tipped the can up and swallowed the rest of the
can.

He turned and walked back to the closet. He pulled off the panties and then
reached in for a black lace thong and slid it one.  It had a tiny pink
satin bow in the front, middle of the waist band, right above his cock that
was hard and trying to break free of its lacey bondage. He turned and I
watched the thin strip of lacey fabric disappear into the cleft of that
beautiful ass. The Y-shaped piece of fabric reappearing at the top of the
cleft and splitting to go around his waist.

I didn't know what the fuck to do. My son's best friend, workout partner,
football team mate was seducing me in lingerie. I hardly had to work at
this at all. All it took was four beers and a browse through my closet.  It
doesn't hurt that he has body issues and needs the approval of another man
to feel good about himself. An added bonus, he was no stranger to lingerie.

What happened next made me want to explode. Out came a pair of black
fishnet stockings. He sat on the ottoman in the middle of the room,
grabbing the leg and bunching them up until the toe was where he could step
his right foot into the stocking. He held his leg straight out in front of
himself, flexed the massive calves and watched as his quads bugled and
pulled the stocking up to the top of his thigh. Then he did the same to the
other leg. He stood up and pulled the waist band up and over that big
fucking ass, over the thong. The stockings outlined the muscle in his quads
and calves. It seemed to cause shadows over the muscle, highlighting the
curve of the quad, the bulge of his calf, the arc of his ass. The black
thong panties could be seen though the fishnet. When he turned, all you saw
was that tanned hard ass trapped behind the grid of the fishnet
stockings. He has done this before. He knew exactly how to put them on.

"How about now, Patrick? You still think I'm sexy?"

He walked over to me and stood in front of me where I was sitting on a
different ottoman. I was afraid to stand up, my big dick was leaking
pre-cum though my tights. I couldn't pull my eyes away from him.

"You're drunk." I whispered.

"You didn't answer the question... Patrick." He said my name, low and
husky.

 Fuck this kid knew what he was doing. If he knew me better, he would know
that he is about to get himself into something he may never be able to get
out of.

"I'm a sexy bitch, huh, Patrick?" He giggled. Not a feminine giggle, a low
deep one.

I gulped. I was starting to sweat. I've fucked dudes his age before but
never like this. Never this...kinky.

"Toby, you're hammered." I was starting to think twice. I was all set to
seduce him and was beat to the punch.

"Stop telling me that! Jesus Christ, who gives a shit. Do you think I'm
sexy?" He repeated as he ran his hands all over his stocking clad legs and
ass.

I really fucking wanted this kid. But for the first time I hesitated. The
kid was drunk and didn't know what he was doing. If I go along, will he cry
rape when he sobers up? NO. This kid knew what he was getting into. He
knows what I like. He's been wanting me to fuck him since we first met. No,
there would be no cry of rape. You can't rape the willing.

"Hmmm, maybe you need more inspiration to help you decide." He slurred.

He walked over to the Sarge's shoe closet. He looked at every pair.

"Hmmm, I wonder which ones I would look good in?" He held up a pair of
black patent-leather, 6" high stilettos.

He stepped into them and looked in the mirror. He spun around and stopped
with his back to the mirror. He twisted his torso around and looked in the
reflection at his legs. The shoes elevated his ass, making it stick out
more, they arched his back, and it made his calves look amazing. He walked
in a circle around the large ottoman. Amazing. He walked in 6" heels like
he's been doing it all his life. Each step he took made he striated muscle
in each quad expand and contract. He did not stumble once. He walked in
them like a fucking supermodel.

"Damn! Patrick, look at my calves! They're fucking awesome. Do you like the
way these shoes make my legs and my ass look? Don't you think I have a nice
ass, Patrick."

I sat there and watched the sexy jock strutting and flexing in the
mirror. His lower body encased in black fishnet hose and his ass elevated
due to the sexy fuck pumps. My ex-wife did used to wear most of these
clothes. Sarge just basically commandeered her whole closet. I'm sure he
won't mind sharing. Toby's upper body, smooth and tan, pumped chest and
bulging biceps, monster shoulders and think traps. His wide lats made his
waist look even smaller than it really was. The best part, the abs. A sexy
8-pak disappeared into the waistband of the fishnets.

I can't explain what I was feeling or what made him so attractive. The mix
of hyper-masculinity, athleticism, muscular physique with a slight feminine
air. Not passable as a woman, yet not dominant either. Like Sarge, he was a
strong, masculine male that now looked like he needed my protection, my
security, like he was depending on me to keep him safe and warm. Sure, he
could take care of himself and knock the crap out of anyone who challenged
him but dressed like this, he wanted to lose that control and make a real
man like myself desire him. He offered the best of both worlds, the
masculine side to show you what a man should be and the feminine to trust
me to treat him like a fragile china doll when he needed it. The trust to
not reveal his secret but also treat him like he needed to be treated.

"Patrick?" He slurred.

He toppled over onto the ataman, losing his balance. I stood up and went to
him.

"Whoa, cowboy," I took his arm and tried to pull him up, "I don't think you
should be walking around in pumps when you're drunk, big guy."

All a sudden I felt the strength of his powerful hand squeeze mine and he
yanked me down.  I landed on top of him, chest to chest. My legs between
his legs. My erect cock pressed to his. He wrapped his arms around my
shoulders and held me down. Fuck, this kid was strong! He spread his knees
wide and I settled in and froze. He brought his knees up on each side of my
body and pressed his knees to the sides of my ribcage.

"Toby. Come on. Let me up." I smiled and laughed like it was all a
joke. Our faces were nose to nose. I could smell the alcohol on his
breath. His eyes bore into mine.

"Patrick, do you think I'm sexy?"

I stared into his eyes, I could feel his knees rubbing up and down my
ribcage.

"Yes... damn it..." I was about to take a step into what could be an
amazing erotic whirlwind of everything I want in a dude. I decided to jump
in head first.  "Yes, Toby. You're fucking sexy as hell."

"You're so fucking handsome, Patrick."

I started to grind my cock into his. "Are you serious about this?"

He nodded his head. "I've wanted this since the first time I saw you."

"I know. I knew you were perving out on me. Showing me that body, that
ass. Boy, I know what you want and need. All you had to do was ask but I'll
take this version of Toby any day."

"I jack off thinking about you. I hate James for having such a hot dad and
not taking advantage of it. If you were my dad I'd be riding you every
chance I could get. I want you, man. Do you want me... like this?"

"Are you prepared to enter into a world of shit you've never imagined?"

He nodded again. He moved his arms from around my shoulders and hooked his
hands around my neck.

"There's no turning back, Toby. Once we do this, you're mine to do with as
I please. I'm not bullshitting. Your young life is about to change."

He looked at me contemplating, then smiled. He pulled my head lower until
his lips were touching mine and we kissed. A sweet peck on the lips and
then I heard a growl in his throat. Next thing I know our mouths are trying
to swallow each other. Tongues taking turns to dive deep into throats. I
sucked his tongue and then he did the same to mine. His hands roamed all
over my arms and shoulders. I felt his legs raise and pumps locked with
each other in the small of my back. I adjusted myself until my cock was at
the entrance of his lycra covered hole. I humped his hole and his legs
spread wider to the sides. He whimpered and cooed as I licked his chest and
neck. I heard a growl escape my mouth as I hugged him tight and pressed my
cock even harder to his cunt.

"Oh, fuck, Patrick. So fucking hot for you, dude. My best friend's dad. So
fucking hot."

I pressed my hands into the mattress beside his shoulders and raised my
upper body above him like a cobra ready to strike and looked down at
him. His stockinged legs once again clinging to my obliques.

"Baby, I'm gonna make you one happy girl."

He gazed into my eyes. His eyes then looked down at my chest and his hands
slid over my abs down to my cock and he gave it a slight tug.

"Fuck. I need this so bad. I don't know why but I do."

"I know you do baby girl. I know you do." I humped him harder and gyrated
my pelvis as if trying to penetrate him through his stockings.

His face was serious. His eyes like stone. He continued to study my
face. He ran his hand gently on the edge of my square jaw, feeling the
rough stubble. He looked back to my eyes and his own eyes started to
water. The liquid in his eyes made his blue eyes shine. He was in pain. Not
physical pain but mental pain. He needed me to help him see the real
Toby. He was tired of always putting up a front. He needed to lose control
from time to time to remind himself that he wasn't alone and had a man to
cuddle up to and feel safe.

"Patrick. Fuck me."

I smiled and lay another kiss on his lips.

"Yeah? You want me to breed my baby girl?"

"Yes, Patrick."

I gave him a slight smack to his beautiful face. His eyes got wide and I
felt his legs tighten their grip. He looked at me like he had done
something wrong but he didn't know what.

"No more calling me Patrick when we are alone. It's Sir or Daddy."

He whimpered. "Yes, Sir."

Ah, he picked "Sir." Interesting. It means he's not ready for "Daddy"
yet. That was going too far for him, for now.

"From now on, I call, you come running. You'll do as I say at all times
even when we are not alone. When I summon you, you will arrive in the
clothing I tell you to wear. When we are alone here you will wear what I
tell you to wear. I will have it all laid out for you when you arrive. Do
you understand?"

I could tell his cock was like a fucking crowbar. This was exactly what he
wanted.

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

"Good girl. When we are alone you are a bitch, you forget all about your
football, girls, cocky attitude. You become a slut for me. Do you
understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

"You will be treated like a girl, my girl. I will fuck you like a girl. I
will talk to you like you're a girl. You'll be a big, tough, muscular
footballer reduced to a sweet pretty little girl. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand."

I gave him another smack to the face.

"I do not want you to pass for a girl. I want no fake high voices, no wigs,
no prissy mannerisms. I want a man how knows he's a girl with a real
man. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." He said as he rubbed his cheek where I had just smacked him.

"One last thing." Oh he was going to hate this.

"Yes, Sir. Anything, Sir."

"I want Brett Danvers."

He looked at me, confused."

"What?" He suddenly dropped out of his fantasy come true and was back to
the old Toby.

"I want Brett Danvers. You're going to get him for me."

His eyes looked at me with defiance.

"Why? You know I hate him."

I lightly smacked him again.

"I don't give a shit, pretty boy. You better become best buddies real
quick."

He was livid, I could tell. I laughed.

"Don't think I don't know you fucking hate this. If you want to continue to
have access to me, you get me Brett Danvers. Take as long as you need. It
doesn't have to happen overnight."

"How am I supposed to get him to agree to all of...this?"

"Baby, this isn't going to be as hard as you think. I have it on good
authority that he will be very... receptive."

Now he was really confused. He looked at me with apprehension.

"YOU signed up for this. YOU seduced me. I own your ass now. If you don't
want anyone to find out you like to be another's man's girl than you will
do as I say."

He thought about it. He couldn't stand the chance of losing me and all that
I was going to do with him.

"Ok. Ok, I'll do it. Anything you say, just please...please fuck me."

"Good girl. I assume you're cherry?"

"Yes, Sir. Well, technically. My ex-girlfriend pegged me and I play with
toys."

"Oh! I knew you weren't new to this. So your girl got you into the lace?
That explains it all."

He blushed.

"She has a way about her. She's very... persuasive. " He laughed.

"And hot, I'm sure."

"Dude, she is so fucking hot." I let the "dude" slide since it was hot to
hear this bitch talk about how hot his girlfriend knowing he was about to
get fucked.  " And she also dated Brett, right?"

He looked at me again with confusion and then a revelation.

"Oh shit. No way. Really?" The realization came to him in a rush. "I need
to have a little talk with her."

"Yes, you do. I bet a million dollars she got to him too. Son, this is
going to be very easy for you."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"Also, starting tomorrow, you're training with a friend of mine. I bought
you a personal trainer."

"What? Why? Dude, have you seen me?" He asked sarcastically.

"You bet I fucking see you. You're beautiful but I want you better. More
powerful, stronger, more muscular. I want you to be the best you can be and
look the best you can look. My buddy trains bodybuilders for competitions."

"I don't want to compete. I want to play football." He whined.

"You can do both. Brett does. You wouldn't want to let Brett be better than
you, do you, handsome?"

That got him.

"Fuck no. If he can do that shit, then so can I."

"Great. You'll start immediately and he'll get you ready for your first
competition next year."

"You want me to get big for you, Sir?"

"Yes, sweetie."

"You want to see my big muscles in some panties?"

"Yes, sweetie."

I kissed him again.

"You ready, baby? You ready to get fucked?"

"YES! Sir."

I sat up and reached down to his cunt. I grabbed his fishnets and gently
ripped a small hole where my cock will slide into that amazing ass. I took
his hand and lifted him up. We held each other and kissed again. In the
stilettoes we were almost the same height. I took his hand and led him to
the bed in the master. It was so impressive that he followed me without
needing to find his balance. He walked in the heels with no problem,
probably better than any girl I've seen.

"You're amazing in those heels."

"Thanks. Chloe taught me how to walk in them."

I pushed him back onto the bed. He immediately lifted his legs in
anticipation of my cock. I grabbed some lube from the bedside table. I
slathered some on his ass and pulled down my tights below my balls. I aimed
at his little jock cunt and rammed it in.

He grunted, threw his head back and yelled. "FUCK! Oh my fucking god! Sir!"

I went down to the root and held it there. His body tensed up and his hands
grabbed the sheets beside his ass and balled them into his fists.

"Shhh... Shhhh... It's ok. It's ok. You're alright" I whispered in his ear.

His teeth clenched and eyes were shut. Through those clenched teeth he said
moaned, "Hurts."

"I know... I know..  Shhh... Let it settle. Relax, babe."

I stayed deep inside him for a few minutes waiting for him to relax. Slowly
his face unclenched and his eyes opened. He blew out a whoosh of air from
his lungs. His fists unclenched as well.

"Ok. I'm good. I'm good." He assured me, still panting but relaxing all the
same.

I pulled out a tiny bit and then back in. He grunted and then let out an
"Ahhhhhh..."

I slid out again, this time to his tight opening and then slid back
in. "Ohhhhhhhh..." Came from his lips.

I started to saw in and out of his tight pussy. His heels raised all the
way up and his calves rested on my shoulders. He latched his hands around
my neck and held on.

"I think you're ready, baby girl." I smiled down on him. He nodded.

With that I went into full fuck mode. Good thing he was already used to
ass-play.  I may have to call up Chloe and thank her for prepping his hot
jock cunt. Being pegged made him settle in sooner than a virgin kid so I
knew he could take it.

I could feel the roughness of the fishnets rubbing the tops of my
shoulders. At one point I lifted his legs straight up in the air and licked
the patent leather shoes, looking down and seeing the boy's face
smiling. His fishnet covered quads looked amazing, highlighted by the black
nylon webbing. I rested his calves back on my shoulders, grabbed onto the
back of his neck, pulled up and slammed in at the same time. I had him
curled up like a fucking pretzel and he was taking my fuck like a man. Yes,
he was dressed like a whore but no whore I know could ever take a pounding
like he was.

I couldn't take it anymore. I roared as I emptied the contents of my balls
in to that tight muscleboy pussy. He could feel it. He knew he was being
loaded up. He smiled and his eyes rolled up into his head and he screamed
as he came all over his chest and face. Just when I thought he was done, he
came again, shooting more white ropes of cum onto his chest and face.

I pulled out and lay down flat on top of him. We were both out of breath,
panting and sweating.

"You were so good, baby. So fucking good." I kissed him.

"Oh my god," he panted, "again! Again!"

I laughed. "Let me get us some water. I need a few minutes. How about you
go into your new closet and pick out something else to wear for me. Sound
good, sweetie?"

"Fuck yeah."

I watched him jump out of bed and jog into the walk-in, that amazing
bubblebutt bouncing with each step and my cum running down his hamstring
and onto the carpet below.

After that first night, the next morning was awkward for him. Toby had
sobered up and was a little ashamed at what he had become last night. I
told him not to worry about it.  Whenever we weren't in the sack he slid
back into the regular old Toby that I had come to love. Quiet, shy, angry
teenager with a cocky chip on his shoulder. It was like he had a dual
personality. He never ever let on when we were not alone about what we
did. In fact, he acted like I didn't exist sometimes. James was never the
wiser.

Whenever I would text him to come over, he came quickly. But I could tell
he was never really comfortable with his actions until we really got into
the lace. He hated that he needed to be someone else so bad. He hated
knowing one minute he was tackling guys in football practice and the next
minute he might be on his back, dressed in a camisole and panties, getting
his thick ass fucked. Every single time, even though we had been meeting up
for a while now, every single time he acted like he hated himself and he
hated me. But once the workout clothes came off and the panties came on, he
was a different person.

-------------------------------------

Patrick sat on the edge of the bed, dressed in his impeccable tailored
suit, his red tie straightened, waiting for his boy to finish dressing. He
relished these moments, these nights when Toby would come over, dressed the
way he wanted him dressed, submitting his massive muscular body to him for
whatever Patrick wanted.

He looked up and saw Toby standing in the doorway to the walk-in, leaning
on the door-jam. He was dressed in everything he had set out for him. Black
heels, black thigh-high sheer stockings with lace on the tops, a black
thong under a black garter-belt with straps holding up the stockings. He
wore a tight black corset with red trim that came up to the bottom of his
round pecs. The corset pushed his pecs up higher and they almost looked
like real tits and it made his already small waist look tiny. His bare arms
bulged, his thick neck and traps looked massive. He was dressed like a
sexy, muscular slut. He walked over to the bed where Patrick sat. It always
amazes him how Toby walked perfectly in the heels but still had a cocky
swagger in his step.

"I like my new corset, daddy." He said in a low, shy deep voice.

"I see it fits perfectly. You're getting bigger every day, baby. Thank god
for spandex. Turn around."  He spun around slowly. The stocking seams ran
perfectly in a straight line up the back of his legs. His calves were huge,
bulging, his hamstrings taught and ripped. The straps from the garterbelt
lay tight down his beautiful plump ass. His ass so big that the straps
didn't even touch the back of his legs until they met the stockings. The
straps looked like they were hanging off a shelf. The corset was tight,
snug on his waist. The top of the corset stopped just below his shoulder
blades which erupted with little mountains of muscle that continued up to
his shoulders.

"Do I look pretty, daddy?" His voice was now quitter, more subdued.

"Oh yes, baby. You look so pretty."

"You are so handsome in your suit, daddy." He responded in a low, deep
voice. He never talked like a girl. He always talked to me like he normally
would but the things he said would have never come out of his mouth if he
weren't alone with me. It was hot.  He talked with me like he was standing
there talking to his football buddies except he was dressed like a whore.

I took him in my arms and kissed his neck. I looked over his shoulder at
the full length mirror and saw a handsome man holding a beautiful muscular
teen bodybuilder. The masculine form dressed in feminine attire.

"Will you fuck me in your suit? Please, daddy?"

"Oh? This is a new one."

"I just want to see my heels on the shoulders of your suit coat. Your tie
dangling above me. Feel the slick material of your slacks tight across your
ass. I want you to make love to me, Patrick."

I knew when he called me "Patrick" that he really wanted to be romantic. He
wanted to be together as lovers not just as fuckers.

"Of course, Toby." He looked up at me. I usually don't address him with his
real name.

"Tonight, it just me and my big, pretty muscle boy."

He smiled and kissed me and let me over to the bed.

Underarmour001@hotmail.com

http://toomuchkryptonite.tumblr.com