Date: Sat, 16 Jul 2016 07:35:38 +0000 From: tom davis <underarmour001@hotmail.com> Subject: Teen Bodybuilder's Secret Chapter 3 Teen Bodybuilder's Secret CHAPTER 3 "Doug! Sup?" "We need to talk." Doug said into his cell as he sat in his SUV in the parking lot of the school. "About?" Sarge knew this moment would come. "Brett." Sarge decided to play dumb. "He's making amazing gains. He's ready for the competition. We might have a Mr. Teen USA on our hands." "Sarge. Why Brett?" Sarge smiled into the phone. "Look, Doug. He likes it. It's not doing anyone any harm. If he feels comfortable with it than who are we to say otherwise?" "I think it's a distraction. He's late to practice. He's short tempered. He would rather spend more time with you at the gym than practice. Football will get him a scholarship, not bodybuilding. This has got to be the reason why." "Doug, don't worry about it. He'll be fine. You're making a big deal over nothing." Sarge tried to calm Doug's worries. "I told you when you took him on as a project that football was his first priority. It's not anymore. I need him focused. He's my best player and we need to win." "And you will win. I'm telling you, I've made him into a new man. He's more confident, more self-esteem and let's face it, the kid is a hot piece of ass." "Sarge. Tell me you aren't fucking him." Doug asked quietly into the phone as if someone could hear. "No, Doug. I'm not. Trust me, you would be the first know." Sarge laughed into the phone. "This isn't funny. Keep your dick in your pants and out of his ass until after football." Doug said firmly. "Dude, I can do that. I'm not the one you should be worried about." Sarge scolded. "What does that mean?" Doug asked, seething. "Come on, Doug. That kid is ripe for the picking. Tell me you haven't thought about it." "No, I haven't. " "Liar." "Fuck off, you dick." "Ah see? You have thought about it. I don't blame you, man. Imagine that muscle ass bent over, sticking up in the air ready for you to slide in and fuck the shit out of his jock ass." Doug was silent. He was imagining it in his mind. Having the muscle boy as his next fuck-toy had crossed his mind more times than he could count. His dick was getting hard in his workout pants as he listened. Sarge whispered in a low, deep, sultry tone, "maybe he's in a pair of pink, lace panties or a tight, silky pair of boy-shorts. Better yet a baby blue thong. His ass like melons stretching the silky panties to his max." Doug was still quiet. FUCK! Sarge knew what to say. His erection was at full mast now. Listening to Sarge's description, describing his ultimate fantasy of taking Brett and taking the boy as his bitch. Brett was a fantasy for him ever since the boy started playing football. He'd had plenty of other guys. Guys who looked like Brett, built like Brett and every single one had become his to do with what he wanted. Sarge was good for that, sometimes supplying him with willing muscle to become panty wearing fags. Even the married ones were up for it. Sarge knew Doug's type very well. Hell, HE was Doug's type. He was the recipient of Doug's athletic poundings many times over. Doug may be married but it's never stopped him from fucking a nice piece of muscle ass. He had a few on call when the moment arose and of course, he didn't feel guilty about it at all. Sarge again spoke low and quietly into the phone. "Or picture him in black thigh-high fishnets, black lace panties, sexy black lacey garterbelt and a pair of black stiletto fuck-me pumps. You got your dick in his ass. Those smooth muscular legs on your shoulders, running your hands over his muscle through the fishnets. His stilettoes floating in the air next to your head. That powerful muscle boy below you, looking up at you while you make love to him. He's your girl, Doug. He's your muscle girl. He wants to be your girl. He wants to know what your wife feels like when you're inside her cunt. He wants to be in her place. He wants you to make love to him every night, he wants you to protect him, he wants you to say he's pretty and that you love him. He wants this, Doug. He may not be fully aware of it but he's on his way. I can tell. It takes a hot, muscular jock, panty bitch to know one." Doug was stroking as he listened. He almost came when he pictured the kid in fishnets and heels. But when Sarge suggested Brett was a hot, muscular jock, panty bitch he exploded. His cum spirting up and onto his dash. It seeped down over his hand as he jacked his load faster and faster as he tried to milk all the seed from his cock. He was breathing hard and deep. "See? You're too easy, buddy," Sarge laughed, "I know exactly what gets your dick hard." "Fuck. That was good." Doug said as he licked his cum from his own fingers. "Always is." "Yeah." "So, hearing you bust a load is making me fucking horny as hell. How about you get over to my place, I'll put something a little more "comfortable" on and you breed the fuck out of my ass. I did squats today." Coach new he couldn't pass up fucking Sarge on squat day. Fucking tight and hard after squats. "I'll be there in 5." "Thought you would." Brett was early to the gym that night after the team meeting. He gave the other pair of football pants to Lawson like Coach told him to do. He was going to stay longer after the meeting and hang out with his buddies but the new tight football pants he was wearing were making him hard and horny. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he walked by. He looked around to see if anyone was watching. He stood sideways in the mirror, the tight spandex football pants were painted onto his legs and ass. His ass was bulbous, sticking up and out further than any ass should. The pants just made it look more pronounced. He needed to rub one out before meeting Sarge at the gym. He couldn't take the pants off in front of the guys because of the lacey thong he was wearing under them. He knew of a private restroom he could go into and rub one out but then he thought about how much better his workout would be if he went in all horny and charged up. So he instead grabbed his gym bag and headed to the parking lot. Toby saw him heading to the door. He saw Brett was wearing the new football pants. He met him at the door and followed him into the hallway. "Hey, Danvers. Where you goin wearing the new uniform pants?" Brett stopped. He took a deep breath and turned to Toby. "Why do you care?" "I don't. Just seems weird that you're wearing game day pants outside of school." "Dude, who cares." Brett said as he turned to walk away. He walked a few yards and he heard Toby walking as well. "Danvers." "WHAT?" Brett yelled as he continued to walk. "You might want to pull up the waistband a bit." Brett stopped. "What?" Toby had caught up with him. Brett was twisting around, trying to see behind him which made him look like a dog that was chasing his own tail. Toby grabbed his arm and stopped him. He took the waist band of the pants and snapped them against Brett's small waist. "Dude! What the fuck?" Brett swatted him away. "Sorry, dude. I was just trying to help you out." "With what, faggot?" Toby laughed. "Really? YOU just called ME a faggot?" "Yeah, I did. Faggot." "Hey, asshole. I was helping you out. Pull up your fucking waist band in the back or all the guys can see your lacey, little thong." Toby said, low and quiet. Toby wasn't smiling. He had a very serious expression on his face. Toby stood closer to Brett, they chests almost touching, neither one willing to budge. Toby once again reached back, ran his finger along the top of the lacey strap of the thong that was sticking up out of the pants as he continually stared into Brett's eyes. He put his finger under the strap that was running down between the two boulder-like buns and snapped it lightly. "Dude, it's a joke. I lost a bet." Brett stammered. He started to sweat and his mouth went dry. "Yeah, ok, bro. Must have been some bet." Toby replied, his hand still on Brett's lower back. He was very calm. Brett was almost speechless. "Uh, yeah. It's a stupid bet. I lost and so I have to wear these...these..." "Panties?" Toby finished the sentence for him. "Uh, yeah. Panties. For a day." Toby took the waist band of the pants and gently pulled them up over the thong. "There ya go, bro. All fixed." Toby still not smiling. His eyes were traveling up and down Brett's torso. He twisted around Brett and looked at his ass. He turned back to Brett and shrugged with a half-smile on his face. "Well they make the pants look better." Brett smiled. "Yeah, I guess so." Brett was so confused. Why was he having this conversation with his nemesis and why wasn't that nemesis running off to tell the other guys in the locker room? "You don't want guys seeing your panty-lines, do ya? You're too pretty as it is." Toby said and then gave him a light pat on the butt. Wait. What? That's exactly what Sarge said to him once. What is going on here? "What did you just say?" "I said you don't want guys seeing your panty-lines, do ya? You're too pretty as it is." Toby stepped away from Brett and leaned back against the wall of the hallway, muscular ripped arms folded across his chest. His biceps flexing out of his t-shirt sleeves. His tight jeans painted onto lean muscular thighs. Now with a little smile on his face. "Why did you say that?" Brett was fiddling with the waistband of his pants. "Uh, because it's true?" Toby replied. "About panty-lines?" "No. You're too pretty as it is." Toby said, low and sultry. Brett stood in front of his team mate. They stared at each other. They stood there silent for 30 seconds. Brett broke the stare and quickly looked up and down the hallway to see if anyone was approaching. He turned back to Toby. "What the fuck is this?" Brett asked in a loud whisper. "What the fuck is what?" Toby asked back, put his hands in the air as if to claim ignorance, then folding his arms back against his huge chest. "What you just said a minute ago. I've heard that before." Toby smiled. "You have? You have heard that exact sentence before? Brett, why would someone say those exact words to you before today? I thought you said today was the only day you had to wear your panties." Fuck! Toby caught him in a lie. "Listen, I don't know what the fuck you're doing but it's gonna stop!" Brett said as he poked Toby's left pec. Toby stood still, casually looking down at Brett's finger pushing into his pec. "Danvers, dude. I don't think you want to talk to me that way or touch me that way." Toby said through a smirk. Brett stood back. He started to sweat even more. His face was starting to turn red. Fucking Toby was blackmailing him. "What you said, a few minutes ago." Brett looked around again. "What do you know?" "What makes you think I know anything about anything?" "Because, fucker, someone said those exact words to me not too long ago. WHO DO YOU KNOW?" Brett was red and shaking. Toby actually was a little scared for a second. Brett's arms and chest were flexing through the tight Under Armor shirt. Toby just kept smirking. His eyes dropped down to Brett's crotch and then back up. "Stop fucking with my head." Brett growled. "I don't like you, Brett." "Feelings mutual." "I guess I just don't like the way you strut around school like you own the fucking place. You're arrogant, egotistical and self-centered. You're Coach's favorite. All the chics get wet when you're around. And to top it off, you're about to become Mr. Teen fucking USA. That's a nice resume." "Aren't you the pot calling the fucking kettle black. You're arrogant, egotistical and self-centered too. If you weren't such a huge dick, more people would like you." "People don't like you either, oblivious. Everyone thinks you're an asshole too. But you live in a bubble. No matter how much of an ass you are, every one gives you what you want because you're too fucking pretty. I mean look at you. Who the fuck has this perfect of hair, this perfect of white teeth? And what the fuck color are your eyes? Is that blue or fucking cobalt? It's almost as if you were drawn from a fucking Superman comic strip." Brett stood there, speechless, mouth open. He continued to stand there, looking like an idiot, saying nothing. Toby has nothing to complain about. The dude is ultra-hot. He's got an amazing body, handsome as hell but his personality cancels that all out. What the fuck is going on? Then...holy shit. "Are you fucking jealous of me?" Now Brett was smiling. "Fuck you." "Holy shit. You are fucking jealous of me. I mean I always knew you were. All the guys are." "See? There's that fucking ego. God you're such an asshole." Brett was laughing. "Fuck, dude. After that speech I can't decide if you jealous of me or in love with me." Toby came at him. He slammed his forearm against Brett's chest and pushed him against the wall and held him there. Suddenly, Brett remembered his fantasy he has when he was with Chloe. The one were Toby was fucking him and calling him, his girl. His heart started to pump faster. He could feel Toby's hot breath on his face. He could see the corded muscle in his neck. He could feel the hardness of his arm and the strength of it. The arm held him back, it was big, strong, masculine. That arm could comfort and protect. He could feel his cock starting to react. He stared into Toby's dark brown eyes, the square jaw, the thick wavy hair. The masculinity oozing out of his pores. Toby kept his arm there, Brett put up no fight. He couldn't. He was feeling things that were new to him. Something about Toby, his strength, his anger, his power. It turned Brett on. He wanted more. "Oh no, pretty boy. I'm actually happy about what I said. It's nice to know that the all-fucking-mighty Brett Danvers has a little secret. He has a chink in his armor." Brett and Toby were nose to nose. Brett stood there. He didn't fight back. He remained quiet, confused by these feelings. "Figure it out, you big dumb jock." Said Toby. "I...I... don't understand..." Toby released some of the pressure from Brett's chest. He lifted his other hand and gave Brett a quick little slap on the cheek. Normally Brett would have torn him apart for that but he was paralyzed. "UGH! Who do you know that said what I said?" "My trainer, Sarge." "Bingo, handsome." "How do you know the Sarge?" "What? You think you're the only one coach sent to Sarge for extra training?" "I didn't know." Toby pushed into Brett's chest one more time then he stood back a step but still close enough that Brett could feel Toby's breath. "Who else do we know, intimately?" Brett looked away and then looked back. "Chloe." "Chloe." "Ok, so how are those two important?" "Wow, you really are all looks aren't you? I think we both know Sarge can be pretty persuasive. He got you wearing the thong, right?" "Yeah, but it's just for aesthetics. It makes the tights look better." Toby laughed. "Then why is yours fucking LACE?" Brett said nothing. "And they don't make the tights look better. They make your ASS look better." Again Brett was quiet. "Do you remember when I started wearing the same tights you wear to practice?" "Uh, yeah. Just after I started training for the contest." "And that's when I started training with Sarge. What the fuck do you think I wear under my tights?" Brett blinked his eyes. Shocked. "Chloe was hot, huh? Tell me, how did you like it when she fucked you with her strap-on?" Brett's eyes became big. "Yeah, big guy. I know all about it." "Then why didn't you ever tell anyone. You could have ruined me." "Oh please. Who would have fucking believed me. Look at you for Christ sake. No one would ever believe YOU would take it up the ass with your girl's dildo." "I don't get it. I would have fucking told everyone if it were the other way around. There has to be more to the story." "Maybe it's because you're not the only one who looks fucking hot in stockings, heels and a fucking garter belt, pretty boy." Brett looked up the hallway. No one coming. He picked up his bag, grabbed Toby by the wrist and pulled him outside into the parking lot. "Get in." Brett opened the door to his truck. "Now you wanna talk?" Toby snickered. They got into the truck and shut their doors. Brett turned in his seat to face Toby. "Ok," said Brett, catching his breath. "You're telling me that Chloe and you... You and Chloe...Uh.." "Dress up like bitches and fuck each other? Yes. Just like you did." "Ok. Before or after I dated her." "We did some dildo shit first. Then we broke up. We only started messing around on you because she told me what she got you into. What can I say? It seemed hot. I wanted to try it. She got me all dolled up and fucked the shit out of me with her strap on. Then I met Sarge and he got me wearing thongs under my tights. The two meshed well. The rest is history." Brett was now seeing Toby in a whole new light. He wasn't mad at him anymore. Hell, he didn't even think he hated him anymore. "Ok, so Chloe has a thing for dudes in lingerie?" "Yep. Turns her on like no other." "Can I ask you something?" "How do I feel when wearing that shit?" "Yeah." "I think the same way you do, I suspect. I feel attractive, I feel masculine but at the same time feminine. The contrast between my body and the clothing makes me hard. I can look masculine and feminine at the same time. I can FEEL masculine and feminine at the same time. The way the lingerie cling to my body is erotic. The tightness, the silkiness, the lace...I don't know, dude. It's just fucking hot." "Yeah. I know. That's exactly the way I feel too. Did she ever have you wear make-up? Eyeliner? Mascara? LipStick?" "Dude, she did me up good. Not girly, but stuff that accentuated my eyes and cheek bones." "Yeah, me too. She didn't want me to look like a girl. She wanted me to look like a guy who looked pretty, sexy." "Yeah. Fuck, dude. This is fucked up. I'm really sorry for treating you like shit the last couple of years." "And I'm sorry for beating the shit out of you until you were unconscious." The two boys laughed and did a fist bump. "Can I ask you something else?" Brett asked. "Does this make me gay?" Brett took a deep breath. "Yeah." "I'm not sure. I mean I still love pussy. But then I love having a dick in my ass. I've never had it good until I started dressing like a bitch. I dunno. Maybe we are just tired of overcompensating for something. I mean look at us, bro. We're hot." Brett smiled. "See? In the past 15 minutes you've called me pretty boy, handsome, hot. How does that not make you gay?" "Because you are all those things? Do you think I'm all those things?" "Yeah, I guess." "Does that make you gay?" Brett looked down at the seat between them. "Dude, I don't fucking know." He was about to cry. "Dude... Brett. Calm down. Listen, I'm the same as you. You're not the only one. I'm going through the same shit as you. We both like pussy and hell, I'll say it. We like dick too. Maybe we're bi. It is what it is and now we know we're not alone. We got each other, brother. By the way, I have the same panties you have one right now." Brett laughed again with tears welling in his eyes. "It's nice to see the big guy tear up." Toby winked. Brett smiled and wiped his tears from his eyes. "This time I have a question." Toby said. "Shoot." "You think about being with a dude? I mean as a chic?" Brett paused, looked out the window as it started to rain. "Yeah." "Me too." "I had a fantasy dream. I was with a dude. He was fucking incredibly hot, real muscular, masculine, built like a man, smelled like a real man. I could feel his fucking strength and his power. I was on my back. I was wearing black thigh-high stockings, black stilettos, garter belt and black lacey panties. I had my legs on his shoulders. I was holding onto his big biceps as he drilled my tight ass. It was so fucking erotic. I couldn't see his face for a while. He started to fuck me harder but at the same time making love to me. He kissed me while he was inside. I felt warm, protected, safe and secure. Then he came inside of me and I could feel his jizz filing my pussy." "Dude, you just referred to your hole as a pussy." "I did? Oh fuck. I guess I did. "Well? Holy shit, bro! Did you ever see his face?" Brett hesitated. "Yeah." "Sarge?" "You." Now it was Toby's turn to be stunned. "Me? Why me?" "Chloe told me once she wanted to see me fuck you." "HA! She told me the same thing about you. She wanted to see me fuck you." "Only the whole time she was talking about it, I could only think about you fucking me. You called me your girl. Your muscle girl." "Ho-lee Shit." "Yeah. You grossed out?" "What? FUCK NO! Dude, that is hot as fuck. I would totally love to be inside your puss, dude." "You would?" "Dude, have you seen your ass?! The first day you came to practice wearing those black and gray tights, dude, you made me question my sexuality way before I met Chloe." Toby laughed hard. Brett laughed too. "Really?" "Yeah, bro. Ass so big, dude. Looks tight as fuck." "Well if we are going to fag-out, when you showed up to practice wearing your tights I had to go rub one out. Your ass is fucking amazing. It's like two melons trapped in spandex. I fucking hated you so much after that. Mad because you looked so hot and mad because you made me fantasize about your ass. I thought it was just the spandex getting me off but now I know it was that hot ass." They both laughed until it died down to nothing. They were staring at each other now. The rain pelting the windshield. The windows were foggy and the air was humid. They both were rock hard as well. They both looked each other over. Toby smiled. "I think we need to do something about these." He said as he stroked his cock through his pants. "Yeah." Brett stroked his own as well. "You ever kiss a dude?" "No. But I want to." Brett scooted over close to Toby and they stopped for a second and looked at each other. Then as if they thought the world was going to end if they didn't do this, Brett slammed himself into Toby and their mouths clamped together. Hands were everywhere, feeling muscle, hair, faces. Toby sucked Brett's tongue into his own mouth. The kissing was loud and wet. Brett was sitting in Toby's lap. Toby running his hands up Brett's leg and back around to his ass. He rubbed the tight, shiny spandex covered ass hard, massaging it, slapping it. The kissing become animalistic. They were now struggling with each other. The making out became rough with grunting, moaning and screaming. They pulled their shirts off and ran their hands over abs and kissed chests. "Fuck, dude. You are so hot." Toby said, out of breath. "Nah, dude. You are. Such a real man. Tall, muscular, strong, handsome... FUCK!" Brett punched both of Toby's pecs. "Fuck!" "Fuck yeah. Look at you, babe. Hot fucking man, sitting in my lap like a bitch." Brett heard Toby call him babe and he dick got harder. "Oh yeah, fucking call me babe." "Yeah, babe? You like that? You call your girls that? I call my girls that. Babe." "Yeah, I like that." Brett kissed him again. "Babe? You know what I want?" "Anything." Brett replied as he rubbed his hands through Toby's hair. "Love to see you dolled up. Fishnets, sexy heels, garter belt, corset. Maybe a little lipstick." "Oh fuck, yeah. I'd do that for you." "I know you would, babe. Love to have those fucking sexy smooth muscular legs up over my big shoulders, licking your shoes, plunging my dick inside your cunt." "FUCK..." Brett was about to cum in his pants. "Yeah, babe. Make love to your tight cunt. Eat your pussy. Would you like that, babe?" Brett looked into his eyes. "You know I would." "You my girl? Huh? My muscle girl?" Brett couldn't hold back anymore as he clenched his teeth, flexed his muscles and exploded inside his new tight spandex football pants. He yelled, "YES! I'M YOUR FUCKING GIRL!" "Damn, girl. You just soaked your panties, didn't you?" Brett leaned back against the window. "Oh my god. I did. Without touching myself." "Fuck, dude. You are a fucking wet dream." "When we're alone, don't call me dude." Toby wiped the hair from Brett's sweaty forehead. "Sorry, babe." "Better." "So I don't know about you, dude, I mean, babe but I think I need to get my dick in your ass." Brett laughed. "But wait, don't you want to, you know..." "Bitch-out? Well, yeah but not for you." "What the fuck?" Brett said as he sat up. "No, I don't mean it that way. You're my biggest fantasy come true. I've always dreamed of making love to you. I've always dreamed of taking you in my arms and fucking you all night. Of course, you're in sexy lingerie. I want to live out that fantasy and I don't think it would be the same if I let you fuck me. For now. Ok, Babe?" Brett was all warm inside. He was making another man happy and that made him feel safe and secure. "Yeah. Sounds like a plan. I'm your girlfriend." Brett said. Toby smiled. "I'm serious, dude. I'm YOUR girlfriend from now on. In public, we're buds, when we're alone, I'm your fucking girlfriend. Got it?" "Babe, you are music to my ears." "Good." Brett kissed Toby again. He scooted across the seat and turned on the truck. "Oh shit!" Brett looked down at the clock. "I'm late. I'm working out with Sarge tonight." "Oh say hello to Sarge for me. He'll get a kick out of it." "I will." Toby started to open his door, stopped and then reached over to Brett. He pulled him in for a long. "I'll text you later?" "Yeah." Toby kissed him again and as he was sliding out the door he said, "Love you, babe." And then he shut the door. Brett froze. His dick got rock hard again. He heart beat faster. He started to sweat. He looked out the window and watched Toby walk away and whispered out loud. "Love you too." Underarmour001@hotmail.com<mailto:Underarmour001@hotmail.com> toomuchkryponite.tumblr.com