Body Shop

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Body Shop Page 3

by Emeric Varady


  “I’m strictly gay for pay.” This was an outrageous fib on Konrad’s part, but some instinct told him that it was what Bartol wanted to hear.

  “So—that means you have to force yourself to have sex with another man?”

  Konrad smiled. “Very little ‘force’ is required. I like all kinds of sex. Just because I have a preference—that doesn’t mean I can’t get into all sorts of things. I’m very open-minded. And versatile.”

  “I should think you’d have to be, in your, ah, line of work. That it’d be an advantage.”

  “There’s no point in being a whore with limits,” Konrad said, bluntly. “Shit!—if you’ll pardon my language. But Budapest is full of trashy male whores who’ll do anything for money. Suck cock, rim, take it up the ass, even get tied up and pissed on, all that kind of kinky crap. That kind of competition makes it difficult for a fairly normal guy—like me—who’s just trying to earn a few extra forints to make ends meet. But,” he added, quasi-philosophically, in a world-weary, resigned-sounding tone of voice, “a guy’s got to do what he has to do. So I’ve learned to be versatile. Very versatile,” Konrad assured his john, with a leer. “Ask me, and you shall receive—satisfaction. Guaranteed!”

  “It excites me, when you talk dirty like that.”

  “Wait until you see me in action,” Konrad promised. “Then you’ll see just how few limits I have. So long as I get paid—I’m adaptable,” he boasted.

  “Do you kiss?” Bartol asked, shyly.

  “Of course.”

  “Some hustlers don’t.”

  “Some hustlers don’t know what they’re missing, then. You know something I’ve found out? Gay men kiss better than women.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “What about straight men?”

  “Oh, they tend to be lousy kissers,” Konrad said, flippantly. “Unless they’re secretly gay—in which case they’re hardly qualified to be representative of straight men, are they?” Speculating that Bartol might be a bit shy, hesitant to make the first explicitly sexual move, Konrad decided to take the initiative. With mock casualness, he allowed one of his hands to stray down into his lap. There, he cupped his cock in his palm and hefted it, as though he was estimating its weight. His fingers curled around the shaft of his penis, which began to stiffen instantly, in response to his touch. Lightly, teasingly, he stroked himself. Within less than a minute, his penis stood up from his groin, raging hard, potent and proud.

  As Konrad had hoped, Bartol was staring fixedly at the way he had begun to manipulate himself.

  “Jesus,” Bartol whimpered, in awe. “Look at that thing you’ve got there in your hand! It’s huge! So much for that bullshit about how you muscle men build up your bodies to compensate for your small dicks.”

  “I’ve got nothing to compensate for,” Konrad bragged. “As you can see, I’m big all over. Big and hard.”

  “God, yes, you are!”

  “You want to suck my cock, don’t you?”

  “More than anything!” Bartol vowed.

  “Well, I don’t know what you’re waiting for. Come over here and help yourself.”

  Rising from his chair, Bartol quickly came over to the couch. Leaning over Konrad, he kissed him hungrily on the mouth.

  Returning the kiss, Konrad reached out, took hold of Bartol’s wrist, and placed the man’s hand on his erection. The older man’s eager fingers closed around Konrad’s shaft, and he shuddered with delight when he felt the thick, throbbing mass filling his fist. He moaned, pulling his mouth away from Konrad’s. He panted for breath and his whole body shook, in the grip of helpless arousal.

  “Maybe we should go into the bedroom,” Konrad suggested.

  “Can’t wait,” Bartol groaned. “I want you, right now—!” After his previous show of patience, he was now suddenly in a hurry. “Jerk my cock while I jerk yours,” he pleaded. Suiting his action to his words, he tightened his fist around Konrad’s throbbing erection and he began to pump on it, vigorously. “Uh, what a big piece of meat!” he gloated.

  Still seated on the couch, with Bartol standing in front of him, but crouched over, knees bent, Konrad reciprocated, giving the guy as good a hand job as he was receiving from him.

  “That’s right, you big muscle stud,” Bartol said. “Let’s work these pricks.”

  “Squeeze mine as hard as you want to,” Konrad invited the man. “I won’t break!”

  Bartol moaned in delight. “Squeeze mine, too. Oh, God, you’re strong! Look at your arm muscles bulging. That’s some grip, you’ve got there.”

  “Comes from holding on to all those barbells and dumbbells, pumping all that iron,” the bodybuilder explained.

  “Aw, shit, this is so fucking hot! You’re so damn sexy. Such a muscle stud. I think I could come, just from looking at that body of yours. Oh, hell! That Viagra is kicking in. I’m so freaking hard, my dick hurts. Not from you squeezing and stroking it—no, you go right on doing what you’re doing, please! But from that damn drug. It’s making the blood rush into my prick and stay in there. Keeping me hard. I can always shoot off more than once, whenever I take one of those pills. I want to come, right now. I’m going to have to, before I go out of my mind. Jerk me, Konrad! Jerk my fucking cock, as hard as you can! Jerk it off!”

  “Come,” Konrad urged, getting into the spirit of the act. “Come for me, man. Shoot your load. Only—we’re likely to get it on the couch,” he cautioned.

  “Never mind! I want to blow my wad. Right here, right now, with your hand on me. I want to feel my cum blasting out of me. I want to see it shoot all over the place!”

  Well, it’s your cleaning bill, Konrad thought, with a mental shrug. With wholehearted enthusiasm and energy, he pumped away on Bartol’s prick.

  “Coming,” Bartol panted, short of breath. “I’m coming—!”

  At the last moment, he did turn his body, aiming his cockhead no longer at Konrad, but away from the couch. Leaning forward, Konrad, still seated, kept his firm grip on Bartol’s ready-to-erupt erection. Standing there between the couch and the coffee table, Bartol let out a hoarse cry as he began to spurt.

  His pelvis jerked itself forward—and then, helplessly, he began spewing his semen out, the white jets of fluid flying through the air and raining down onto the floorboards. There was a lot of cum—Bartol’s violent ejaculation seemed as though it would never stop. Gradually, though, his spurts lost their velocity, and his emptied prick dripped the last of its load.

  “Oh, God! I really needed that,” Bartol gasped. “Yeah, I really needed to come.”

  All this while, Bartol had managed to keep his own hand closed around Konrad’s rigid manhood. Konrad’s cock pulsed strongly within the other man’s grip. Bartol was still clutching Konrad’s shaft, squeezing it, hard and possessively. Konrad felt his swollen balls draw up close under the base of his dick. He felt a surge of lust, which was intensified by his awareness that Bartol was quite taken with him. Konrad was confident that he’d found himself a new paying customer, who’d be willing to hire his services on a regular basis. There were few things quite so gratifying to a muscle man’s ego than having another man go crazy over his body, to the extent that he’d shoot his wad as quickly and spontaneously as Bartol just had.

  He’s not a bad-looking guy, and he’s got a nice-looking ass, Konrad thought, lewdly, already anticipating engaging in further sexual acts with Bartol. And I haven’t come yet. I think I’m going to enjoy fucking him. I’ll ream him out good, and then I’ll breed his butt. Yeah, I can’t wait to plant a big, hot load up his hole!

  Chapter Three: All Through the Night

  “That was so good,” Bartol panted. “So hot! You’re quite a stud.”

  His cock was still hard, as was Konrad’s, inside his firm grip.

  “Thanks,” Konrad said, graciously accepting the compliment. He reached out and he played with Bartol’s prick, catching in his palm the last, lingering drops of semen which had escaped from the piss sli
t, and smearing the slippery residue around over the dark red knob of the glans. Meanwhile, Bartol continued to hold Konrad’s cock in his own fist, staring covetously at the rigid shaft and fat cockhead.

  “You haven’t come yet,” Bartol observed, excitedly.

  “No, I was saving it for you.”

  “Let me suck it,” Bartol begged.

  “Go right ahead. Be my guest!”

  Bartol got down on his knees on the floor in front of Konrad and he used his hand to guide the bodybuilder’s cock to his mouth. His full, sensual lips opened wide, yawning, and his eyes rolled upward in their sockets, looking at Konrad’s face, glinting with hunger, wild with anticipation. Recklessly, Bartol stuffed Konrad’s dickhead inside his mouth. His lips closed around the circumference of the bloated shaft and, immediately, he began to suck, sliding his mouth up and down around the erection, which he swabbed with his wet, agile tongue. A low, animalistic grunt of pleasure welled up from his throat as he fed on Konrad’s manhood. He took his hand away from Konrad’s prick as he took more and more of its bulk into his eager mouth.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Konrad said. “Lick it and suck it! Swallow it! Take it all!” Silently, he added, addressing himself inside his head, If you knew how many times it’s been in a man’s ass recently, fucking him, raw, coming in his ass—I wonder whether you’d still be so eager to have it your mouth? Yeah—I bet, if you knew that, you’d still want to suck it. Maybe you’d be even hotter for my cock—turned on by the thought of blowing a guy who fucks other guys up the ass! But just for money, of course, me being “strictly gay for pay,” and all, which was that line of bullshit I fed you! What a laugh that is! ‘Gay at a moment’s notice’ would be more like it! “Blow me,” he urged, aloud. “Come on, keep that hot mouth working on my cock!”

  Whimpering, Bartol obeyed, abjectly. Obscene slurping sounds escaped through the tight seal which his lips made around Konrad’s shaft. He was breathing hard and fast through his nose, emitting snorting noises. His hand went down to his own crotch, where he began jerking on his cock. His penis had never softened, and now it looked as though he was striving to coax it toward a second ejaculation. The Viagra seemed to be doing its job.

  The ravenous suction of Bartol’s mouth on Konrad’s prick made the bodybuilder moan and shudder with pleasure, his muscles bulging as he involuntarily tensed them. Bartol was devouring his meaty fuck tool like a starving man—or, rather, like a famished cocksucker who’d been denied a mouthful of dick for some time.

  “I’m getting close,” Konrad advised the kneeling man. “You’re doing a good job. Keep it up, don’t stop now. Make me come. Make me come good and hard.” Konrad was going to blast off soon, he knew. Bartol’s mouth was drawing him ever closer to orgasm, with a machinelike efficiency. “Yeah, slobber all over that cock,” Konrad gasped. “Get it nice and wet. Jesus,” he exclaimed, breathlessly. “You look like you’re about ready to pop again, too!”

  Bartol’s prick indeed looked ready to explode. The cocksucker was pounding away on his hard-on without mercy, not sparing himself, wrenching it so roughly that he looked as though he was hurting himself. All the while, he went on uninterruptedly slurping away on Konrad’s dick.

  “Are you ready to get a big mouthful of hot fresh muscle man jizz, dude?” Konrad inquired, his voice taut and strained with lust.

  The question seemed to spur Bartol to even more frantic oral and manual action. Grunting in assent, he bobbed his violently up and down, risking whiplash, his face flushed a deep red and perspiring, his mouth hoovering away on Konrad’s cock, his own prick throbbing fiercely inside his hard-pumping fist.

  Konrad could feel his climax rushing upon him. Closing his eyes, he imagined that it was not Bartol, but Jakob, who was sucking him so unselfishly, so passionately. He visualized Jakob kneeling naked in front of him, Jakob’s big muscles tense and trembling, Jakob’s lips surrounding his cockshaft as he fucked the blond guy’s handsome face.

  Bartol’s grunts and groans grew louder. His knees, pressed against the couch, ground into it. Konrad’s cockhead swelled inside his mouth, twitched, and began to spit out its charge of fluid. The salty torrent filled Bartol’s mouth and poured down his throat, as he swallowed repeatedly to contain the flow.

  The tantalizing, provocative vision of Jakob faded from Konrad’s consciousness. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes, just in time to see wet streams of cum erupting from Bartol’s prick, once again soiling the floor. Bartol went on sucking Konrad’s cock and stroking himself, until he was sure both penises were depleted. Only then did the kneeling man allow Konrad’s cock to slip out of his mouth. He lifted his head, his eyes glazed and unfocused, and he slumped backward onto the floor. He let go of his penis, with obviously reluctance, and he rested, fighting to recover his breath. The expression on his face was one of pure ecstasy.

  “You’re good,” Konrad complimented him. “You sure know how to use your mouth to make a guy feel good.”

  Bartol sighed, and he stared at Konrad’s still-rigid prick. “You’re incredible. You’re the best I’ve had in a long time. Come on, let’s take this into the bedroom.”

  “I’d like another drink, first, if I may.”

  “Of course. Help yourself. I’ll have one, too.”

  “And,” Konrad said, slyly, “maybe you’d better clean your cum off the floor.”

  “Oh, this isn’t the first time somebody has shot on there,” Bartol admitted. “That’s the advantage of having the wood properly moisture-sealed. Still—I suppose you have a point. Excuse me.” Getting to his feet, Bartol went into the kitchen, returning with a damp sponge and a handful of paper towels. Kneeling again, he wiped up the puddles of semen which dotted the floorboards, while Konrad, who’d refilled both wineglasses, sipped from his and observed the cleanup, fighting back a smirk.

  The two men drank their wine. Then, in the bedroom, they got ready to fuck, with Bartol using a tube of lubricant to coat Konrad’s erection, before he smeared some of the lube onto his own ass. Neither man’s hard-on showed any signs of softening. Bartol’s tumescence may have been chemically enhanced, but Konrad’s own priapism seemed to take inspiration from the other man. Positioning himself on his hands and knees, Bartol demanded, “Put it in me!”

  “Think you can take it, buddy?” Konrad inquired, pressing the large, heated knob of his cock against its puckered target.

  “I know I can, stud!” Bartol boasted. “Or I’m going to die trying!” He shivered with anticipation—mixed, perhaps, despite his declaration, with apprehension. “Stick it in me!” he demanded. “Oh, give me that cock! I don’t give a damn if it does hurt me.”

  Konrad pushed. Bartol’s ass tilted higher. He was trembling with mingled fear and desire. Konrad rubbed his slicked-up cockhead over the equally well-lubricated anal opening, feeling his prick tingle with fierce arousal. Without any further delay, he began to force his erection through the waiting hole, inch by inch. The first sensuous stretching of the anus around his fuck tool inflamed him. With his glans and the upper part of his thick shaft safely inserted inside the cringing sphincter ring, he rammed himself forward.

  “Uh,” Bartol gasped. “Uh, it hurts, but it hurts good! You’re so big.”

  “Here comes the rest,” Konrad warned.

  “Christ! I thought it was all the way in me, already! Never mind. Go ahead. Put the rest in. Uh, you have no idea how incredible this feels. You’re really filling me up and stretching me out. I like to get fucked, I’m used to it—but this is something else! You’re such a stud.”

  “Wait’ll I start humping,” Konrad promised. “Then you’ll see just how much of a stud I am.”

  As he spoke, he completed the penetration. His foreskin was pushed back, baring his glans, deep inside the other man’s anal channel. Bartol’s internal anal muscles seemed to close around his shaft, molding themselves to its contours, squeezing and milking it. tentatively, Konrad began to move his prick back and forth inside the tight, hot, convulsing
ass. Bartol arched his back and pushed his behind backward, rotating his buttocks, grinding them against Konrad’s groin and the tops of the fronts of his sturdy, thickly muscled thighs. Bartol was moaning, loudly, nonstop. Konrad reached around the guy’s squirming body and took hold of his cock. The head was dripping wet, leaking sticky threads of pre-cum.

  “Okay?” a breathless Konrad asked.

  “Yes, hell, yes! Fuck me. Fuck me hard!”

  “Think you can come again, thanks to those pills you’ve been popping?” Konrad teased his john. “Are you going to shoot off when I come in your ass?”

  “God, yes!” Bartol panted. “I feel as though I’m getting ready to come again already. Give it to me, you muscle stud. Oh, pound my ass for me, pound it good!”

  “That’s just what I’m going to do,” Konrad vowed. “Too late for you to back out now. Your ass is mine!”

  The interior of Bartol’s anus felt hot and slick against Konrad’s dick flesh. Konrad was pumping his prick in and out of the other man’s hole, not bothering to take it easy on him, because he knew now that this guy liked it rough. Bartol was a damn good fuck! The horny, hot-assed bastard knew how to tighten and flex his asshole to massage another man’s plowing dick. Every time Konrad drove deep into him, nudging his glans against Bartol’s prostate, Bartol would squeeze his anal muscles and treat him to a cock massage.

  At the rate they were going, Konrad wouldn’t be able to last long, and he suspected that Bartol was every bit as overstimulated, as desperate to come.

  Releasing Bartol’s prick, Konrad concentrated on driving his own dick in and out of the man’s ass. He fucked Bartol with short, rapid, jabbing strokes now, really reaming him out. Bartol emitted squeals of delight. The bed rocked under the two men’s weight. Konrad’s cock, gripped by the snug, vibrating asshole, pulsed and burned.

  “Get ready, you cocksucker,” Konrad growled. “Get ready to take my load! I’m going to breed your ass.”

  An eager moan escaped from Bartol’s mouth by way of reply. Konrad came, his cum surging into the guy’s spasming anal depths. As he ejaculated, Konrad felt the shudders of Bartol’s body under his, and he knew that Bartol was coming, again, spurting his jism onto the bed. The orgasmic bucking of Bartol’s butt back against Konrad’s groin, and the slap of Konrad’s tightly drawn-up balls upon the man’s hot, sweaty ass cheeks, both felt very good, and they seemed to make Konrad’s climax that much stronger.

 

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