Fun time with bro keeps getting more and more righteous. You’ve just come from your weekly Code meeting – all about how to be good, straight bros who never stray from good dude shit – which always gets you extra juiced for each other.
The stud showing off for his alpha. He had so much potential, and Alpha brought it out, just as he brought out his true sexuality. Now Alpha tops his gorgeous boy every night before sending him out into the world to fuck all the pussy, bussy and mouth he wants. Like a man on his own alpha path.
When the bros are all pent up, but cause of No Homo, this is as far as they can take it. They’ll need some serious pussy when they’re done with their little petting sesh.
Someone just asked the bull his name and he’s trying his best to remember. He really is trying to think. Problem is, he’s forgotten how to think. Good. Thoughts just get in the way. Now he just needs Coach to direct him to the dumbbells so he can continue his session. His memory’s wrecked, but his muscle memory is stronger than ever. That’s how he still knows how to fuck so well.
Literally 30 seconds after arriving at the cabin, you and your best bud were naked and devouring each other’s faces like it wasn’t just last weekend you were here.
You used to workout alone, closeted and angry. Then you met Tony and everything changed. Tony was long out the closet, long down the weight-lifting road and all too willing to teach you his ways. And now you were as jacked as him, as sexy as him and as committed as him. You make sure to kiss him tender before every set, just to show your appreciation for everything Tony’s done for you.
Coach loves seeing his bulls waddle to the scale for their weekly weigh-in. Bulls are total tops, except for Coach. Coach is the only one who’s allowed to slam down on those huge muscle asses. Coach is the only one a bull would let do it. That’s power. And Coach needs to ensure his bulls are eating everything he’s telling them to eat. All 7000 daily calories of it. The scale doesn’t lie. That’s control.
Power and control. Necessary to keep these enormous bastions of testosterone in check. Necessary to produce the next generation of high-value breeders. Coach is the only one man-enough to be able to control these men. He’s the only one with the power.
I love my kissing bros. Not all of the men I service wanna kiss me. For many men – the closeted, defensive ones – it’s a step too far. And it’s a shame, cause I know the power of a slow, intimate make-out session. The comfort, fun and joy it can bring. So I’m deeply appreciative of the men who do wanna kiss. Yeah, one way or another, I’ll be on my knees soon enough, but the thirty minutes of tonguing foreplay makes all the difference to me, and I know to him too. I know for a fact he doesn’t do this shit with his pregnant girlfriend anymore.
What was that about a boy’s only weekend up at the cabin? Well yeah, that’s exactly what is was about. The concoction of drugs these boys are rolling on is pretty righteous. Uppers, downers, poppers et al. Everything and anything to get their walls down and their dicks up. Imagine if their girls could see them now huhu.
The bulls are in a league of their own. Coach actually rarely lets them play sports: they don’t have time for it. They spend 12-14 hours a day sleeping, and most of their waking hours are spent gorging on food or lifting extremely heavy weights. Otherwise, they’re on the shitter, or getting milked. That is the life of a bull. And all for Coach to sell their fuck to couples in want of alpha sons. People pay thousands to get cunted and bred by one of these high-T alpha giants. Jocks are Coach’s passion, but bulls are his money maker.
That’s your sixth meal today, and it’s only 5pm. You can’t remember the last time you were hungry, but that doesn’t matter. All that matters is you’ve got to eat and lift and roid and fuck cause that’s what good bulls do. No. You’ve gotta eat cause Coach told you to eat, and good bulls do whatever Coach says.
Your gay friend wore you down. He kept telling you how amazing it feels to get rimmed. That there’s nothing else like it. No woman had ever put her face anywhere near your asshole, so you were hesitant. But interested. You said yes. And your friend was right. Deep down, you knew the real reason you’d denied him so long is cause you feared the dam it would break. As he licked you down, your walls broke away, and you knew this was just the beginning. It wasn’t the rimming; it was the male intimacy that was causing your head to spin. That was the thing missing from your life.
This was the only place you and your best bud felt comfortable doing this. What was it? Two years you’d been coming out here to fuck. Your wives didn’t know. Or maybe they did, but they didn’t say anything. When you got back to civilization, you and your bud wouldn’t talk about it. Just, whenever you’d share that special look, you’d both find yourselves back in the forest. The outdoors, the secrecy, the sheer lust. Nothing made you hornier. Nothing connected you more to your shared manhood.
Bruh came round for his daily fuck. He couldn’t resist checking himself out on the way in. It was a good few minutes of flexing in the window before you could drag him to the couch and get the night going. The roided narcissism was real though.
Looking like this, he wasn’t getting anywhere with women. Too fat. Too hairy. Too slobbish. Too gross. So he decided to try something he’d been wanting to try for years. He went on Railr. Within days, he had an endless parade of men looking to ride his fat, hairy, slobbish, gross body. Within weeks he began doing some reciprocal cocksucking. Within months he’d sworn off women completely as he realized the full glory of men. It’s just surprising it took him this long, considering how glorious he is.
He’s trying to remember what to do with this thing. The thought’s gone. He’s been standing there for five minutes trying and failing to think. His muscle dom has been going hard with his conditioning, and he’s upped his gear intake this month. His mind is pretty much fucked, but the important thing is, he’s getting bigger and hornier and manlier. He’s fucking any guy his dom sends over. He still remembers how to do that. If he ever forgets how to fuck, then his dom will know he’s gone too far. By that point it’ll be too late and he’ll drop the muscle sub immediately. What’s the use of a man who can’t fuck? Just find another sub and don’t push quite so hard.
“I don’t see the problem, bro.” Your gym buddy bent double to look under the shelves. You stared hard at his ass and massaged your dick.
“Oh, there’s definitely a problem,” you said. “The whole thing’s wobbly. Better keep looking.”
“Sure thing. You know I’m always happy to help.” He was big, dumb and kind. It was so easy to put him to use around the house. He was like a puppy, always looking to please. Especially when you mounted his tight muscled ass like a stallion and he fucked back to help get you off. You didn’t know what his sexuality was. Frankly, he was probably too stupid to know. But it didn’t matter. He liked to bottom, and you liked to top. He liked to do stuff for you, you liked to have stuff done. He was a himbo, you were a stud. You were perfect together.
Himbos can’t help it. It’s almost subconscious. He went to stow his luggage, then stopped as he remembered to pull his jeans down a bit to show off his perfect bubble ass. Every catcall, every pinch, every spank validates him and makes his silly head tingle with joy.
This fucking roided stud is everything you ever wanted… for your wife. He starts the night off showing off as your little dick thrills, before he fireman-carries your wife to your marriage bed and pounds her till she’s screaming.
The best bit is getting to suck up his huge creamy load as it gushes from her cunt when he’s finally done. Though you also appreciate that he clogs your toilet with a massive dump and pisses all over your sofa.
And all that for only a grand?! You’re one lucky little faggot… or, your wife’s one lucky lady, you mean.
Taking a shower with your bro saves water. Think of the environment. And kissing your bro saves… emm… women from having to buy chapstick… or something…
When the slutty pool boy keeps sending you videos like this cause he, like all himbos, just wants to have fun. The fact that your wife is sitting across from you eating lunch doesn’t figure in his sexified little brain.
You were married for fuck’s sake. But ever since you hired that gardener, you’ve felt this moment inching closer. The little looks, the flirty touches, his unnaturally high interest in your life, your work, your day. And he kept coming to work dressed in less and less. Today, it was just these tight little short shorts that gave you a semi as soon as you saw him. After your wife left for work, he made his move. Before you knew it, you were making out on your marital bed, your hands sliding closer to his hole. You’d never been with a man before. You’d repressed for so many years. But this was it. You pushed down your guilt and let your lust overwhelm you.
You and your best bro of ten years spend all your free time together. At the gym, watching the game, weekend camping trips. You name it. But your most common hobby is taking your dogs on their daily walk. Once you’re deep enough in the forest, you grab each other’s hands. Once you’re deeper still, your hands grab for something else. And that’s when things get really deep. And somehow, no one knows. Least of all your girlfriends. They just think it’s really sweet that you’re such good friends, and that the dogs get plenty of exercise. Not even when you return with your asshole still dripping with your lover’s cum does she notice.
You get Railr just to see. You’re not gonna do anything with anyone. You take a look at the wall and see torso after torso. You upload the only torso pic you’ve got. Nothing special, you think. You’re not expecting much response. After all, you’ve been on Tinder for months and the girls barely give you a second glance. But boy, this ain’t Tinder, and these ain’t girls. Within minutes, your DMs are bursting, and you’ve got twenty men asking you what that tongue do. You’re getting overwhelmed. You were just curious… but maybe curious enough to actually try something… You shut it off. Not yet.
You and bro go camping every other weekend during the summer, like ritual. Everyone thinks you’re just doing guy shit, like fishing and and hiking and stoking campfires. And that’s true. But the guy shit is a little more… intense than just that. Fuck, it started off innocent enough, just buddies spending quality time with each other. But I don’t know, something clicked in the both of you. Before you knew it, you were clothes-off, sucking down each other’s hogs like you’d never get another chance. And that’s kind of how it feels, right? Like, this is the last chance, cause this whole thing is a fantasy. But there you both are, every second weekend, sucking dick, fucking ass, kissing lips and generally doing “guy shit” in a way you never let yourself imagine before. And this is the real guy shit. Accept no substitute.
Just a couple of all-American bros. You love to show off together; flexing is your main past-time. The girls go wild, so do the guys. Which suits you just fine. Like all good American bros, you practise chicks on the beach, dicks in the sheets.
Whenever you and bro get together, things get really physical. It’s all No Homo, obviously, but he’s just so fucking sexy that you can’t help yourself. His ass has more meat on it than any woman’s you’ve been with, and something about that just turns you on. Your boner strains your pants, leaking away like crazy. That makes you a little sus. Like, that seems kinda homo. But so long as at least one of you keeps your cock out of sight, anything you do is totally fine. That’s the rule, right? The goalposts keep changing when it comes to No Homo, but that sounds right. Man, you love spending time with your bro.
A year into Coach’s new training program, and you’re transformed. He’s turning you into the ultimate bull, and it’s working. He says you’re his best candidate yet. You’ve blown up to 300lbs of meat and you’re not done. You’re in your room – your pen – waiting for a cheerleader to come round so you can empty your balls. The constant drugs, lifting, bulking and flexing has spiked your testosterone so much, you have to bust four or five times a day. But Coach provides everything you need to keep your dick satisfied. At least for a few hours.
Your weren’t sure about getting a handy from a guy, but your bud was very persuasive. Now, he’s been giving you a daily job and you can’t imagine doing it yourself. Wonder what else you could do together…
When your teammate is nude right in front of you in the locker room and you start to chub. You’d been fucking on the DL for months now, and it was just getting more and more intense. Every thing he did made you horny, and it’s all you could do to not just jump his bone right there.
You’re nervous. Your wife’s away for the weekend and you decided to take the opportunity to finally try hooking up with a guy. Your date from Grindr should be here soon. He was a cute twink; thin waist, bubbly ass. Totally bangable. You figured it would be easier with a guy like that. A natural bottom who seemed kinda fem. One day, you might try it with another roided meathead like you, but not today. That was too gay for today.
Your gay bro was telling you about his hook-up last night and you were playing along like a good bud.
“And then I fucking busted, dude. All over his cute face. He couldn’t believe how much splooge there was. It was funny.”
“Like this?”
You pretended to get cummed on.
“Exactly.”
“Haha, that’s awesome. I wish chicks would let you do that to them. They’re too worried about messing up their make-up.”
“You should hang with me and my fuck bros, bro. We’re non-stop busting on each other.”
“Eh… okay.”
There it was. You’d been waiting for him to give you an opening for months now. He assumed you weren’t into guys. Probably cause you were hella closeted and never dared express any interest in men. Little did he know that you’d been using his sex stories for your spank bank ever since you met the guy. And now, looks like you were gonna be part of it. Dream come true.
When your gay bro has been trying to get your dick for weeks. You keep turning him down cause you’re “straight” and “straight” guys don’t do that shit. Then he sends you this photo. You don’t know if it was his puckered blowjob lips, his fat bulge, his thick, beckoning ass spread-eagled for your dick, or just his needy fucking eyes. Either way, you drove over to his house as fast as you fucking could, all that nonsense about being “straight” long forgotten.
When you’re just minding your own business and bro storms up to you and starts making out. You couldn’t stop it if you wanted to, and fuck knows you don’t want to.
After months of flirting, side-eyeing and falling asleep drunk in each other’s beds, your closeted buddy final told you how he really feels. You were so excited, you leapt up in his arms and kissed him right there in the street.