Wrestlers and bodybuilders are one step away from being porn stars. They have the pornstar state of mind at least; aesthetic, victory, sensation, physicality, strength. All this and more occupies the minds of these men. Is it so hard to imagine these wrestling greats taking the next logical step and fucking? Not for me.
Artist: AverageNeighbor
Lose yourself to the pornstar state of mind
When you’re alone in the gym with your gay bud and he keeps waggling his gorgeous ass at you while you’re doing your curls. You push him onto the bench and start plowing. You promised yourself the last time would be the last time. Funny how those promises always went to shit when faced with your pal’s warm, tight, beckoning hole… Fuck. You know that you’ll be here again, a few days from now, doing it all over again. And the thought of that made you even harder.
Don’t ask about it and don’t tell about it here.
“Yeah, take it, fag! Take my fucking alpha dick!”
“Yes, sir!”
Ah, gym bros. Mark was well acquainted with their ways. Dustin here had started buggering him a few weeks back. It made him chuckle to think they were in control. That they had a handle on the situation. Mark was in control. Completely. Any ground given was ground he could recover at a moment’s notice. He played the part of a submissive gay boi for the men who needed the cope. It only mattered that Mark got his prize: the rich creamy dessert. The ends justified the means.
And the slurring? It pissed him off when done without his consent, but when a dude “earned” the right to say it – when he really topped the shit out of his bussy – he could let it slide. He knew that a lot of closeted men slurred the objects of their attraction to deflect their own insecurities. Freudian and irritating, but typical. As if this hunk of douche was any less of a “fag” with his dick firmly up Mark’s beautiful, manly ass.
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Mark treating one of his regulars to his first bottoming experience. Ryan was deep in the closet and had heavily resisted Mark’s flirtations and advances. But eventually he fell. They all did.
It was blowjobs at first; then Mark convinced Ryan to fuck his ass. Wasn’t too hard, actually. Mark’s ass is legendary. Then, of his own volition, Ryan sucked Mark back.
Weeks later, and Ryan was dropping hints he wanted to get fucked. Mark showed him the joy of getting rimmed, and ever since, bro got more and more ass-focused. Obsessed. He’d send Mark messages at one in the morning of a peach emoji and a crying face. Looking for a bro to rim him, but no bros available. Poor bro.
Mark took the hint. He’s an observant boi, my Mark. With a hobby like his, you have to be. So he spared Ryan the embarrassment of asking to bottom, and took charge.
Mark tends to bottoms: mainly cause most of his bros want to top… or are unwilling not to. You know, cause bottoming’s “too gay”, or “too fem”. Some genuinely prefer to top. Bottoming isn’t for everyone, and you can’t shame a man for that. But Mark puts himself at a man’s service, and that means he’ll give dick just as readily as he’ll take it. He is the ultimate good boi.
So one day, in the showers of Sparta, Mark made his intentions plain. Ryan didn’t say anything, he just nodded. Bro wanted this so fucking bad. Mark kissed him calm, then worked down his back until he was confronted with Ryan’s perky, pretty ass.
Kiss. Kiss.
Mark would ease him in with a rimjob, seeing how he loved that. Then, he’d get the dicking down. And Ryan would love that, too. Bros like Ryan were made for taking dick, though they’d never admit it. Mark had been around the block too many times; he knew how these guys worked.
Ryan wanted to embrace his homosexual urges to their zenith. Ryan wanted a safe space, and a safe pair of hands to do that. Ultimately, Ryan wanted to know true androphilia: sexual intimacy with another man. But he felt restrained – by society, by upbringing, by himself. Ryan was just another closeted gym bro; this is what they’re like.
See what Mark’s about here, and read about his adventures here.
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You felt so privileged to be one of coach’s cheerleaders. A dream come true. The jocks and bulls all treated you like their younger brother. They watched out for you, protected you, covered for you.
You loved going out to lunch with them – the bulls stuffing back six burgers with extra fries, the jocks with their large portions of chicken, rice and broccoli, you and your cheer brothers with your salad and grilled chicken – and knowing without asking that they were gonna pay for you. You’d sit on one of the bull’s laps while they told dirty stories and laugh along as he casually slipped his hand in your slutty shorts and fondled your puffy pussy.
Or you loved being invited to the frat for a jock night in. The boys getting drunk and high, having burping competitions and playing Mario Kart, while you and the cheerbois served food and drinks and kept morale up by decrying how great and manly your jock brothers were. Sometimes, a jock would just pick you up and slam you on the sofa, or else bend you over a chair. Their dicks are locked away, so they can’t fuck, but they’re all tops, and they all want your pussy, and so they go through the motions of fucking you. And though you’re sad they can’t actually rut you, you love them for wanting to.
You always thought they felt a bit sorry for you. Like, you must be upset you couldn’t measure up to their masculine greatness. But you didn’t think that way at all. You felt profoundly happy to be at the service of these jocks and bulls: to be an available and generous bottom for them to play with. You especially loved the bulls. Total tops, aggressive, toxic, but deeply affectionate towards you. To be a sexual outlet for one of their daily milkings was a dream come true.
Read the first Jocked novel here!
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