“Babe, come on!”
You and bro just vibing on another level and your girl’s getting impatient. She wants to leave, you want to spend more time with bro. It’s a pickle. She’s used to you and bro kissing now, but she’s still not happy about it. She keeps saying it’s “weird” and “gay”. You’re just like “pfft”. It’s “No Homo, babe” cause “he’s bro”.
It makes sense to you. It makes sense to bro. That’s why you love bro. The vibes.
Bone up on bros here.
Bro is cocky, but he’s earned it. He’s always doing this shit around you. You love bro so fucking much. Always got a boner, always thinking of ass, always getting all puffed up while he cops a feel. And always topless, too, which is sick. Dude’s ripped as fuck, insane cum gutters. You share jeans a lot cause you’re tight. Don’t bother you none that his bare dick and donk have touched them. Just makes you feel closer to bro.
Bone up on bros here.
When you try Railr for the first time out of pure curiosity and this guy slides in your DMs to ask if you’re dtf. You quickly delete the app and jack out a huge load. Not yet. Not yet.
It’ll be our little secret
Showering with bro and sharing that good manly intimacy. You’re shooting the shit, talking about that good bro stuff. You know – chicks, gym, work, football, whether you measure up as a man, farts. All that. You’re mesmerized by bro’s donk cause bros love donk and he’s got a phatty. You’re not gonna do anything cause No Homo is in force and you respect that. Still, you and bro are chubbed up and easily tugging away as you talk. Just bro shit.
Bone up on bros here.
Mark will always go for the alpha. He likes a broad swathe of men, but he can never resist the lure of a king. Watching this 250lb slab of testosterone completely dom the fuck out of some bitch on the gym floor tells Mark everything he needs to know.
It will take a few weeks of seduction, but sure enough, this alpha will end up in Mark’s bed slam-fucking his well-honed fuckhole into oblivion. And if alpha wants to sit his magnificent ass down on Mark’s face – this time bare – then Mark will have no qualms. Rimming a slab of testosterone until he can’t take it anymore and busts a huge nut is one of his specialities.
My boi has a lot of specialties.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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“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.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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Bro’s such an obnoxious roidhead, everyone in the gym thinks his shouts and grunts are just him being extra about lifting. They don’t see Mark on his knees, giving him one of his world-class blowjobs. But that’s where he is, where he always is.
It’s men like this who really steal Mark’s attention. Chads. Everything about his person is soaked in testosterone. It’s the T Mark wants. He doesn’t care if most of it is synthetic, he just wants to be immersed in it, influenced by it, drowned in it. He’ll swallow as much high-T cum as he can – whether in throat or ass – cause that will bring him closer to the masculinity he loves so much.
The bro doesn’t understand any of that, or care. He’s getting an awesome blowjob from a beautiful man and has never gotten into the habit of thinking too deeply about shit. And that’s also how Mark loves him. Unthinking, obnoxious roidhead masculinity is the best kind. Tastiest cum, too.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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It’s late, close to midnight. Mark’s back at Sparta for the third time today cause where else would he be? And he’s all but alone with this beast. Huge and rippling, sweating and topless, lifting dangerously heavy weights and screaming out as he does; this is the man for Mark. Now is his time to serve.
So he approaches. Wearing his best slut-stud gear – stringer vest to reveal his nipples, shorts with a 4-inch inseam that hug his donk, and a backwards cap to make sure this alpha knows Mark’s intentions – he meets the alpha’s eye. He gives him his best good boi attitude. A boy’s frown and a pouting lip; Mark looks like a puppy you’ve just scolded.
“Hey,” says Mark.
The alpha looks him over, breathing heavy from his last set. “Cocksucker?” he says.
Mark’s eyes light up and he nods.
Without hesitation, the alpha stomps to Mark’s side and gives his body a proper examination. His large, unfettered hands molest Mark’s ass and he only sticks his butt out further to give the man full access.
“You get fucked too?” he says. His voice is bass-deep.
“Oh yeah,” says Mark. “Anything you want, bro. Anything.”
“Is that right?” His eyes continue their exploration. He pulls Mark’s shorts down to reveal his strapped ass and he digs around Mark’s hole to make sure it’s worth his time. It is.
“Most of the cocksuckers who hit on me aren’t as fuckable as you,” he says.
Of course, Mark loves that.
“Go wait in the locker room. I’ll finish my session then come fuck you.”
“Fuck yeah, bro.”
The alpha swats his ass. “I’m not your bro. What I’m about to do to your pussy I’d never do to a bro. You call me sir.”
“Yes, sir.”
And Mark leaves for the locker room, rock hard in his jock. The fact that the alpha insisted on finishing his session only makes Mark more infatuated. It would soon be his time to serve, and he was gonna do whatever he could to make sure this king came back for more.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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Mark’s gym daddy (one of them) strutting around with his usual confidence. Earned, clearly. Mark was enjoying the view while daddy was on the step-machine. He’s a total top to Mark and his other boys, but he’s got the glutes of a young god. Mark would bet money that some dom top is making good use of that daddy hole, and would think it a damn shame if he wasn’t.
Maybe Mark could be that dom top. Good bois aren’t necessarily bottoms and cocksuckers. Sometimes, the best thing a man can do to serve is to top. Maybe Mark will get a piece of that daddy hole.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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When Daddy Rick wakes up in Mark’s pad after a night of androphilic fucking. Unfortunately, he can’t stick around for some morning fun. He’s spending the day with his grandkids.
To Mark’s surprise, Daddy Rick was a flip-flopper. Like most men raging with testosterone, Daddy wanted a hard-go at Mark’s flawless ass. But, he also wanted to be done in, pounded, cunted. Mark should have known, what with those little shorts.
He was happy to oblige. He flipped Daddy Rick over and gave him his thick Grecian meat until Daddy was moaning like a true-bottom. It took two fuckings to get Daddy to bust his load – Mark’s cock buried in his hairy hole, Daddy lying on his back, legs up, face contorted in pain/pleasure. Mark lost his first load within five minutes faced with that. It was his second, slower load that gave Mark the time to really get to know Rick.
Mark loved when a bottom-daddy still acted all daddy with him. It’s all; “That’s it, son. Fuck me like a real man. Make daddy proud, come on!” Mark lived for that shit. He couldn’t be doing with bottom-daddies who acted like coy cheerleaders, bitchy fags, or submissive holes. He needed a daddy to keep calm, cool and in control.
Daddy Rick did just that. He’d be on the regular docket from now on. You don’t just throw away a bottom-daddy like Rick. Especially when he fucks back like a 20 year old hound dog. Woof woof.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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Ari might be the biggest bro in Sparta. He has the genetics for it, plus 15 years of roids and bulking and lifting with an intense singularity that’s left him the envy of every bro there. And he has a secret shame.
Ari’s a bottom.
A total submissive nelly bottom who just wants another man to put him in his place. He wants to be called a faggot. He wants to be spat on. He wants to drink a man’s piss. He wants a group of bullies to tie him up and force him to lick their asses while they laugh and jeer. He wants pain. He wants humiliation. He wants a real alpha to find out who he really is, and exploit it. He wants to be conquered.
The muscles are all bravado; armor against any personal or social presumption that he’s not man-enough. He had the genetics for it, and he leaned in. Ari looks like a super strong bull, but he feels like a frightened mouse.
And Mark’s happy to oblige his submissive desires. Ari’s got an ass to match those legs. Huge and powerful and completely intoxicating. And Mark enjoys shoving his dick into it as hard as he can while he calls Ari a dumb little fag.
He’d give the bull after-care if he was allowed. But once Ari’s has his fill of dom cock, he’s out of there. You won’t catch this bro kissing another bro. That shit’s gay, dude.
Even total bottom cocksucking submissive fags like Ari fall prey to the same delusions and mental stasis that forces men in their millions to claim they’re not attracted to men.
Whatever. Mark’s not here to change the world. He’ll let Ari have his secret shame and just enjoy playing with his unbeatable body. That ass though, bruhs, fuuu~
Conquer or be conquered
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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*Read about Trace and Cole here on Amazon
Trace and Cole were a couple of “straight” douchebruhs who treated the gym like their own personal weight room. They’d grunt and yell at the top of their voices as they ego-lifted weights way beyond their ken; they’d never clean up their sweat; or put away their dumbbells; or show any degree of conscientiousness at all. And they always seemed to have a lot of stuff; bags and clothes and bottles and accessories that most of the other dudes didn’t.
Trace was the older and “wiser” of the two. He’d clearly been roiding for years; his huge arms spoke for themselves. Cole was his lil bro, learning at master’s teat. It was cute watching Trace guide Cole through a movement, or help him overcome any sense of shame about showing off in the middle of the gym. Cole was probably in his early twenties, clean-shaven and manly-cute. Give him a couple of years on Trace’s stack, and boy would blow up, Mark was sure. Both were completely waxed, tanned and shiny.
Mark was obsessed with them. A couple of handsome, roided bro-bros who were loud, dumb and arrogant. A favorite of Mark’s. They gave off toxic, masc4masc Railr bruh vibes. The type Mark was always happy to get down with. They’d been on his hit-list for weeks now. He was just looking for an opening.
They would know he was gay. Most people in Sparta did. Trace and Cole were the living embodiment of “No homo, bro”. Getting them to a place where they could be comfortable around him was gonna be a job of work, but one day they’d crack. Mark was curious to really test how “straight” they were. In his experience, most men weren’t so. Mark’s gaydar was beeping – slowly, quietly, from a far distance, but definitely on. Trace and Cole would be in his bed, one way or another. Or his sofa. Or floor. Of the gym jacuzzi. Or a toilet. Getting fucked on the Sparta gym toilets was something of a specialty of Mark’s.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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The following is an excerpt from the first story (The Jock) in Gym Bros Volume 1: Straight Guys Gone Gay. Buy the full thing on Amazon:-
“Welcome,” said Dan to a man across the desk. “How can I-”. He cleared his throat. “How can I help you, today?”
“Was hoping to join,” said the man. He spoke in the same cadence as all gym bros. Low, breathless, carefully unprissy.
Mark was the same. As he licked teasingly on the thick rod waggling before him, his mind wandered. Gym bros had a way of speaking that distinguished them from the general man. Maybe it was the heavy roids the dudes did. Maybe it was their societal hang-ups forcing them down an octave. Maybe such men were destined for the gym. Fuck knows.
“Just moved nearby,” said the customer.
“Nice,” said Dan. He paused just as Mark really got down to work. “You from New York?”
“Nah, Oklahoma. Just landed a job here in the city.”
“That’s great, man. Have you- mmm. Have you used one of our gyms before?”
The client frowned in confusion as he stared down the 40-year old ex-bodybuilder with his bulging arms and frayed baseball cap. “You alright, dude?”
“Yeah. Sorry, just nursing an old injury.”
“Sorry to hear that, bro.”
“Comes with the territory.” His hand came below desk and grabbed the back of Mark’s head. “Tore my quad up years ago when I used to play football.”
Dan subtly jutted his hips forward and back. Mark kept pace, never gagging.
“Damn, sounds painful.”
Mark giggled silently from his hiding space. It was anything but painful, you damn idiot. Mark took Dan’s shaft all the way to the base and back and savored the fucker’s poorly-contained frissons of pleasure. To Mark, this shit was a walk in the park. An under-desk blowie before noon? No problem, no drama. Mark pulled the thick 5-incher from his mouth as quietly as he could and lapped at the glistening pink cockhead. He continued scrolling through his socials while he sucked.
Oooh, they’re releasing a new line of Pound! jockstrap. Mark liked the post and continued scrolling, never letting up on his suckling. Dan’s frustration came through in the force applied to the back of Mark’s head. He clearly wanted to fuck face, but was constrained by the civilization of it all.
Pity.
“Never mind about that,” said Dan. “So you wanna join? I’m happy to help you there. I’m Dan. I manage this gym.”
He held out his hand to shake the newcomer’s and Mark tickled his balls as he did. They were high and tight, as per his roiding, and hairier than most of the men here. Gym bros tended to be a vain bunch – body hair was usually a rare delight.
Dan shook the client’s hand with an awkward cadence, like he had some kind of subtle tick. He usually had a good poker face. Men like Dan were used to being sucked off, whether by guys or girls. People always wanted to be on their knees for a football jock, for a bodybuilder.
“Name’s Hudson,” said the client. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too. If you just take one of these application forms, hand it in when you’re done. Then I can give you a tooour!”
Mark twist-jacked his dick with one hand, tickled his balls with the other, and suckled the tip with his mouth. His great cocksucking trifecta. Dan was seconds from busting. Mark could tell.
“Right,” said Hudson. “Sorry about your leg, bro.”
He walked away to a nearby seating area. Dan called after him. “And welcome to Warriors of Sparta. Where we turn mice into-”
He bust his load and it shot into Mark’s hermetically sealed mouth. The ropes blasted against his tongue and throat and Mark gulped it down joyously. His prize.
“-men,” Dan squeaked.
Mark and all his Gym Bros
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Look at this champion. It’s the eve of his graduation. Tomorrow he’ll be permanently uncaged by Coach. His dick will be free and with it, he will be free to live his life how he chooses. He sends another flexing video to Coach. Coach didn’t ask him to, tell him to; jockboi just wants to. It feels right.
Jockboi’s been on the program for four years. He started a scrawny, shy nerd. Besides a couple of awkward handjobs in highschool, he’d never been with a man. Then he was pulled into the world of his would-be mentor, who brought him to Coach, who saw the potential, and how got him started on the path to becoming a champion.
Tomorrow, that path will be complete. Coach has spent four years moulding him. Nightly jock files that have warped his mind in the interests of masculine orthodoxy and jock groupthink. Daily gym sessions to hone his body into the artefact of masculine excellence it has become. A caged cock to control his sexuality until it’s exactly to Coach’s liking. And immersion in an intimate brotherhood, the Team, with whom he shares everything and would sacrifice everything.
When he graduates, jockboi will pursue his own destiny. Endless paths will be open to a man of such strength, grace and confidence. Coach will support him in what he does, so long as jockboi continues to be a proud member of his tribe within Jock Nation. Jockboi will always have a home with Coach and his boys, his Team. And jockboi will be sorely missed if he chooses to leave.
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