Tag: gym (Page 2 of 2)

Gym Slut

The type of classic gym slut shit Mark wears. Only, the shorts are usually a little bit shorter.

He’s either responding to some gushing comments on his FortheFans, or he’s setting up a sesh with one of his fuck buddies. Probably not in Sparta. Mark has built his sexual bunker in the gym, but he’s not so silly as to limit where he finds his boys.

A couple of young bros pass by, and one of them wolf-whistles. Mark checks them out. He lightly taps his ass. “Thanks, man,” he says, fully earnest and easy-going. Mark lives to be objectified by men. The two guys chuckle and head away.

He watches them go, eyes fixed on the pig who whistled. He’s shorter and smaller than Mark – not his typical type – but his body-shape is beautiful; a perfect downward triangle. With his football jersey it’s hard to see, but Mark can tell he’s exactingly lean. Sharp abs, snatched waist. He has a surprising amount of ass for a bro so lean. His black, hi-styled sweatpants sway back and forth as he and his buddy head for the drinks machine.

Mark makes up his mind.

Thirty minutes later, that young man is sitting on one of the gym toilets as Mark slams his pussy up and down on his rock cock. He’s already cum. Twice. But Mark’s not stopping.

He knew he was onto a winner when the guy blew his first load hands free while Mark was giving him a lap dance. Mark knows he’s taking this guy’s gay virginity, his anal virginity, and hell, maybe just his virginity.

Mark doesn’t go easy on him though. Mark wants to spoil this guy for the rest of his life. To fool him into thinking that whores like Mark are a dime a dozen. To make him lie awake at night tossing and turning, dreaming of Mark’s ass. For Mark’s unrelenting, perfectly snatched hole to be the best piece of pussy this kid ever has.

And he achieves that. Mark sucks the third load from him with his ass, pulls up his shorts, and leaves with just one slutty wink. His prey is totaled on the toilet; his dick red raw and painful from Mark’s anal abuse. He’s scrambling to get Mark’s details, but my boi’s already gone.

Always leave ’em wanting more. That’s what a gym slut does best.

Mark and all his Gym Bros

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The Message

Clayton is one of Mark’s regular lays. He’s come to expect blowjobs on demand. He just gives Mark a look – a piercing, masculine gaze – and Mark gets down. He doesn’t need to say anything. Mark gets the message.

Mark wrote the message.

This is what Mark wants. For his sexual services to be so normal that he can just do it. No questions asked. No tedious homophobic defenses necessary.

It only goes down like this when Clayton is scrambling to reclaim the power. Usually, he’s so beholden to Mark’s abilities that he melts like putty in Mark’s presence. All it takes is a cheeky wink from Mark, and Clayton chubs up. His thoughts divert from weight lifting to dick sucking. On the one hand, that’s not hard. These bros are sex-ready with nowhere to go. On the other hand… Clayton’s straight.

Or

He pretends to be. Fuck knows. It’s not really Mark’s business. But clayton had been a hard nut to crack. It took weeks of flirting and cajoling before Clay finally gave in. Once he did, though, the floodgates came down. He bust his load in Mark’s mouth, ran away, and was back two days later for a second go. That was faster than most of the bros.

And now he’ll take a blowie as often as he can. From what Mark can tell – cause all his gym bros get very vulnerable with him once he’s taken their dick for the tenth time – Clay has stopped fucking his girl. The head is too good. He doesn’t need her to get off now.

And of course, Mark loves that.

The message is clear – Mark is always ready to serve. So don’t be shy. Use him good, use him hard, use him often. That’s what he’s there for.

Mark and all his Gym Bros

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Breeder Cum

Married, four kids, good job, you know the drill. Doesn’t stop him treating Mark’s fuckhole like a disposable flashlight; good to be thrown in the bin once it’s dripping with his breeder cum. And Mark lets him. For a man like that, there’s not much Mark wouldn’t do.

He’s called Pat, but Mark wants to call him Daddy. He tried it once, and Pat got real pissy. Took Mark’s jaw in his big hand and told him to never call him that again. Mark obeyed. He wasn’t gonna anger a tanked, defensive roidhead for no reason. Still, in his mind, Pat was Daddy.

And to Pat, Mark was faggot. Mark didn’t let just any man call him that. If a gym bro was on his level – on equal footing of masculinity and muscularity – then he wouldn’t allow it. Any gym bro who called him that would be getting a clap back, and Mark was a strong man. But Pat wasn’t on Mark’s level. He was on the next rung up. He was an alpha. Mark wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He recognized their different spheres of manhood, and he respected it. Pat was more of a man than he was.

For men like this – hypermasculine alphas with homosexual ideation – homophobia is often the only way they can square their conflicting feelings. He believes being gay is decadent and feminizing, but he feels drawn to men in a way that goes beyond platonic camaraderie. He wants masculinity. He wants intimacy. These ideas are at war – at least in Pat’s mind.

The better angels of Mark’s nature tell him that he’s helping Pat come to terms with his demons. That he’s showing Pat it’s possible to be a hypermasculine alpha, and truly enjoy the company of men. But the selfish, sordid, dark recesses of Mark’s desire don’t want Pat to overcome his internalized homophobia and find open, liberated comfort in homosex. They want Pat to remain closeted, and frustrated, and homophobic. Because when Pat fucks his breeder cum into Mark’s perfect pussy in a rage of homophobic shame, Mark orgasms like with no one else.

Even my shameless, confident good boi Mark struggles to sweep that one under the rug.

Mark and all his Gym Bros

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Bottoming

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.

Mark and all his Gym Bros

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Side-eye

Often how it begins. A flirty side-eye in the locker room. If a bro’s amenable, fun shenanigans occur. Otherwise, Mark gets a dodgy look and bro moves to the other side of the room. Occasionally he gets a black eye. Usually it’s the first, but it’s all part of the hunt. Sometimes, the prey gets the better of him.

Mark started coming to gyms when he was 18, and now, at 28, he’s a pro. He’s honed his craft and his confidence in the locker room. Learning about men, and how to be a man himself; learning about sex and how to bring pleasure to others; and learning about muscle and how to build the type of body he wants to fuck. Gyms are his holy place, and locker rooms his favorite part; the warm, sacred center of his place of worship.

Mark’s well-practiced on these kinds of interactions. If he feels the good vibe – the energy that says “Ya, bro, I’m buying” – then he gives the guy a look. A sultry but subtle gaze that goes beyond anything one of his bro-bros could offer. Then his eyes travel south and give the dude an overt stare of his crotch. All the better if dude’s swinging free. Mark often struts around locker room’s naked. He loves his body, and has no shame. He likes it when other dudes meet him where he is.

And then…? Then, it’s whatever you imagine. Mark grabs the dude’s free cock and gets in close, breathing hard on the guy’s heavily-scented neck. Mark goes right to his knees and swallows the bro’s burgeoning manhood whole – completely owning the dude’s desires in a matter of seconds. Or maybe Mark entices him into a bathroom stall for some privacy. He bends down and opens up his pre-prepped pussy for the bro to take full advantage of everything Mark has to offer.

All of that and more. For Mark is a whore, and whore’s are kings of desire.

And it all starts with an innocent side-eye.

Mark and all his Gym Bros

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My Boi Mark

My boi Mark.

Mark’s a slut, a whore, a home-wrecker, a cocksucker, a fag, a good boi. He’s out, he’s proud, he’s confident as sin, and he always gets what he wants. It’s just a matter of finding the right angle.

And what he wants is masculine men. He’s a masc-chaser. He surrounds himself with masculine aesthetics and manly energy. That’s what gets him off, what sets him off, what pounds his heart and addles his brain. To Mark, there’s nothing sexier than an unabashedly masculine man reveling in his own virility. Marc does the same. He doesn’t just want masc, he is masc. Only elevated. He dresses well, smells good, looks damn fucking good. He wears color and sparkly shit, or else not very much at all. It’s to show off his man’s body – all muscle, chest hair and swinging cock. He’d say fem guys need not apply, but he’s not quite so exclusionary as that. He just has a very powerful preference.

And Mark’s a pro. You’ll find him on FortheFans, posting his latest nudes or jerk-videos or dildo fun. He’s yet to do anything with other guys, though. Crossing the line into outright pornstar is a big leap, and he’s doing just fine with his teasing, tantalizing shows. Fine enough to afford a swank pad in Brooklyn. My boi Mark has expensive tastes.

And what does he do with his glut of free time? He spends it at Warriors of Sparta; an elite gym filled with hot, muscular, masculine men who are always looking to get off. And Mark gets them off. He tops them, he bottoms for them; he sucks them, he fucks them; he worships their bodies, or lets them worship his. He’s got that gym wrapped around his finger, along with dozens of bros who he’s wrangled into his sexual maelstrom.

And it’s all Mark’s little secret.

So don’t tell their wives. Or boyfriends. Or bros.

Or do. Could be fun.

Mark and all his Gym Bros

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By Example

Coach teaches by example. That’s why you’ll find him in the gym twice a day, everyday, and wearing appropriate attire. The jocks have gotta learn.

It’s hard for the boys to imagine their Coach as anything other than the masculine stalwart he is. Forty-odd, fifty-odd; huge, rugged, strong; the authoritative patriarch; sexually unassailable. But he was young once, he was a jock once. All coaches start as jocks. That time when they were spry and youthful and full of a boy’s mischief and charm.

Coach Schmidt was one of those jocks who knew from an early age that he was gonna go on to form his own tribe. He wanted to be a coach. He looked up to his own coach with intense awe. Once he graduated from his coach’s program and became a full-fledged jock, he went to the military. He needed to be in an ultra-masculine space; the sort of space that made him hot and excited, yet safe and happy. The military honed his machismo further and gave him command of a group of young men. When he returned to civilian life, he was ready to become a coach.

And so he got set-up at a college far from his own coach so as not to have conflict, then got to work building his Team of jocks. Just as his own coach did.

And now there’s over fifty people in his tribe; assistant coaches, jocks, bulls, cheerbois and runts. He’s rich and prosperous; his program is perfect; he has endless access to cocky jocks and beautiful cheerbois to keep his dick wet. But this empire takes work and determination to keep. That’s reflected in his body. A coach’s body is his empire, symbolically. He must be the biggest and strongest jock on the squad. He must lead by example.

Get Jocked

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Transformed

One year in the program and jockboi is transformed. His friends, family, professors – they don’t recognize him. Gone is the shy, flabby boy who exceled at math and loved Star Wars. In his place is a muscled up, dumbed down jock bruh with no thoughts but lifting, fucking, sports, and bros, bros, bros.

And you owe it all to Coach. It’s like he brought you out the darkness and showed you the light. He sparked something in you, a passion and lust that you’d never known before. Coach explained this. It’s the jock mindset. Normies – betas – they live in black and white. An orgasm feels good, but that’s it. It’s here and then it’s gone. But for a jock, an orgasm is cosmic, and everything else is orgasmic. Everything from eating a cheeseburger to taking a shit, scoring a goal or wrestling a bro takes on a sexual thrill. His nerve-endings are sharp, his sensations are intense; the world is in Technicolor and it’s all because of his jock mindset.

That’s what it means to be transformed. To go from normie to jock, from beta to alpha. It’s not just that you now have a hot body and aching balls, it’s that the world shines where before it flickered. And jocks want to have an impact on that world. They want to leave a mark, to have people turn their heads to look. So jockboi sheds his tank and watches himself the way he knows other people watch him, and the way he knows other people should watch him. The jock mindset is a glorious thing.

Get Jocked

Read the Jocked novels here

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