Bisexual Bodybuilders Vol 1

by Emeric Varady

  “Oh, you smug bastard. I can tell, just from the look on your face, how you wallowed in it, like a pig in the mud.”

  “I can’t deny it. If there’d been a trough with mash in it, I’d have gobbled it up.”

  “I hope you at least had the decency to clean up after yourself. I’m not going to find used condoms lying all over the place, am I?”

  “I think we picked them all up and put them in the trash,” Adolar said. “And I made a point of putting fresh sheets on the bed.”

  “Thank God for small mercies,” his wife muttered.

  When they arrived at the house, Vanessza unpacked only her overnight necessities. “I’ll do the rest in the morning.”

  “Or I can do it for you,” Adolar volunteered.

  “No, don’t bother.”

  “Are you tired?” he asked, solicitously.

  “Not tired, necessarily. But I definitely feel like going to bed.”

  “We’ll make an early night of it, then.”

  “You’re in a suspiciously good mood, Adolar.”

  “There’s nothing suspicious about it. I haven’t made any secret of what I’ve been up to, while you were away.”

  “God, you men are so obvious,” his wife commented. “So transparent. A woman can always tell when you’ve been laid, just by looking at you. There’s always that same ‘cat caught with the canary’ look on your face.”

  “Yeah, but can you tell how thoroughly I got laid, just by looking at me?”

  “You filthy pig. You really did get that kid to go all the way, didn’t you?”

  “All the way,” Adolar boasted. “We both scored. More than once. It was one touchdown after another.”

  “Maybe we’d better go to bed. To give you a chance to recuperate.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Adolar stripped naked and tossed his clothes into the laundry hamper. Then he excused himself and went into the bathroom, to get ready for bed.

  When he returned to the bedroom, he found quite a sight waiting for him.

  Vanessza, too, had removed most of her clothing. She’d turned the lights down low, and she’d turned the bed down, as well. She was on the bed, posing in a highly provocative way. Startled, Adolar gaped at her.

  “What’s the big idea?” he blurted out.

  “What do you think? I’ve got news for you, buster. Don’t you think that, just because you’ve been playing around all weekend with your new stud boyfriend, you’re going to get away with neglecting me, now that I’m home. My ass, lover,” Vanessza told him. “Put it in my ass! I want you to remember how good a woman’s behind can feel, with your cock inside it. I don’t want you to decide that you’d rather screw a boy, from now on, instead of me.”

  “There’s no real danger of that,” her husband insisted.

  “Says you,” she taunted him. “Prove it. Prove it right now, you fucker! Make love to my ass.”

  She was sprawled on the bed on her hands and knees, with her ass up, her breasts pressed against the mattress. She wore her dark stockings and a black garter belt, nothing else. Her knees were drawn far enough forward, and positioned in such a manner, that her buttocks were split wide open. The puckered, rosy-pink opening of her asshole seemed to be not only looking upward at her husband, but winking at him in wanton invitation.

  Adolar knelt on the bed behind Vanessza, with a tube of lubricant in his hand.

  His cock, jutting outward from his groin in full, proud erection and readiness, twitched in restless anticipation while he squeezed some of the lube onto his palm. He rubbed the cool, slippery substance between Vanessza’s ass cheeks. She let out a little moan of pleasure. Smiling, Adolar massaged the lube into his wife’s tiny hole, using his middle finger to penetrate the aperture and work the lube around inside it.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “Wonderful! Do it some more,” Vanessza invited him. “Finger-fuck me a little, before you let me have the real thing.”

  Adolar complied. He rotated his invading finger around within Vanessza’s suddenly relaxed and supple anus. As he sank his finger in deeper and stroked it in and out, his cock pulsed, pointing itself at Vanessza’s backside like a loaded pistol about to be fired. Adolar grunted, and his smile tightened into a smirk. It really was incredible, how horny he could get at a moment’s notice. After his weekend of same-sex debauchery, he ought to be limp. But, on the contrary, the mere sight of Vanessza’s wantonly displayed behind, and her lewd talk, was enough to get him hard and keep him hard. His dick was getting impatient—and so was he!

  His finger made a lurid little sucking sound when he pulled it out of Vanessza’s rear hole, which was now thoroughly greased and ready. Then Adolar moved up close behind her, nestling the head of his prick where his finger had just been.

  “Give it to me, lover,” Vanessza demanded. “That is, if you have anything left after your wild weekend with your pretty little boyfriend.”

  “I’ve got plenty left, baby, as you’re about to find out,” Adolar retorted. “And, as for Bob—he isn’t pretty, and he isn’t little. He’s all man. And I really enjoyed fucking his ass. I can’t wait to get in there again … just like this!”

  As he spoke, Adolar leaned over his wife’s bottom and pressed himself against it. He pushed his cock inside her. His turgid glans opened her sphincter, and his shaft followed, the full length of his penis slipping inside her anus on the slick coating of lubricant.

  “Ah!” Vanessza squealed, as she felt her ass being plugged by Adolar’s thick cock. It didn’t really hurt; she just felt a fullness in there. But it was a highly stimulating, erotic fullness. Being taken by her husband in this way never failed to arouse her. Her cunt already tensed and throbbed in empathetic response, as though it, too, was being penetrated.

  Adolar drove his prick deeper into her yielding butthole, and he looked down and watched it disappear, inch by inch, until he had given her all of his manhood. Exulting in the total violation of her anus, Vanessza squirmed a little, rotating her asshole around Adolar’s tool, and trying to find the most comfortable position in which to settle in for the long, hard ride which they both wanted.

  “Fuck me,” she urged him. “Fuck my ass!”

  He placed his hands on her hips, grasping one of her garter straps in each hand. He glanced at the mirror on the wall over the nearby dresser. The mirror conveniently gave him a full view of the bed. Excitedly, he watched Vanessza’s lithe, stocking-clad legs flex, the pale flesh of her upper thighs contrasting vividly with the dark tops of her hose. She looked like a whore in a bordello, servicing a customer. The fantasy excited him.

  He began to fuck her doggy-style, only in the ass instead of in the cunt, pumping in and out of her tight, hot hole slowly at first. He watched his slippery fuck pole monotonously plunge and reappear, plunge and reappear, between the erotic mounds of her quivering bottom.

  “That’s right. Fuck my ass hard,” Vanessza moaned. She humped her buttocks back against her husband, who was sodomizing her so expertly, and to such devastating effect.

  “You like it, huh?”

  “I love it!”

  “So do I.”

  He fucked her ass harder and faster, quickly losing all self-control.

  Although Vanessza’s asshole had been used often enough in the past, not only by her husband but by a succession of other men, it was still tight enough to give Adolar a real thrill. The lubricant made her rear aperture feel slippery-smooth, mitigating some of the heat and friction of the rough ass fucking he was giving her. Her rhythmically clasping and unclasping sphincter muscle teased his prong again and again, gripping his buggering member firmly each time he made a thrust into her. Her ripe ass cheeks jiggled against his flat, hard belly.

  “Oh! Oh, fuck!” Vanessza moaned, getting hotter and hotter. “My clit … frig my clit for me, baby, while you fuck my ass!”

  Adolar reached under her, found her prominent, hot, swollen love bud, and rubbed it with his fingers, which also caressed the
juicy, dripping wet lips of her cunt. Vanessza groaned with satisfaction, and she ground her hips and butt back against his groin with even greater abandon.

  Adolar really didn’t have to move at all, now. She was doing the fucking now, providing all the hot, frantic action necessary. Her asshole felt like a large, wet mouth sucking on his prick as her hips swiveled shamelessly.

  “Now,” she cried out, suddenly. “Now! I’m coming!”

  He squeezed her clit, hard.

  Vanessza came, jerking and moaning. Adolar’s prick quivered in the hot, moist embrace of her asshole, spurting its load of wet, warm semen deep within her rectum. She sighed with relief.

  “The perfect end to a perfect weekend,” Adolar declared.

  Vanessza had to agree.

  She slumped under him. His cock was still lodged inside her ass, throbbing away. It still felt good.

  Her wayward husband had strayed, once again. But, as always, he’d come back to her.

  Chapter Seven: A Private Coaching Session

  It had been a mistake to cross that invisible line he’d tried to draw for himself, between himself and the players on his team. Kolos Kozma prided himself on his professionalism. As a faculty member at the university, he tried to be approachable, encouraging the students to think of him as a mentor and a friend. But having a sexual relationship with a student—that could lead to big trouble.

  Kolos encouraged the athletes under his supervision to train with weights, to build up their muscle mass and strength. He set the example by pumping iron himself, with impressive results.

  His downfall began one evening when, going to the sports center to work out, he found Urban there.

  “Where’s your buddy Robert? I’m used to seeing you two here together,” Kolos remarked.

  “I don’t know. He told me was busy tonight, that’s all I know. Maybe he has a date,” Urban replied, with a shrug.

  Huh, Kolos thought. That shy youngster Bob—dating? Probably getting laid. This sexy little muscle slut, Urban, must be a bad influence on him!

  “Want to work out together?” he suggested.

  Urban perked right up. “Sure, Coach. That’s be great!”

  They worked up quite a sweat together, hefting the heavy weights, with Kolos, as always, insisting on using strict form. Afterward, in the showers, Urban did some shameless, undisguised peeking—as he invariably did after a workout, a practice, or a soccer match. Kolos had noticed this before, often. He’d toyed with the thought that he really should advise the boy to be more discreet. But Kolos never seemed to be able to come up with a way to initiate such a potentially provocative conversation.

  Tonight, though, Urban was even more bold than usual.

  “You’ve got such a nice body, Coach,” he purred, as the two men stood under adjacent spray heads, soaping themselves.

  “Thank you, Urban. So do you.”

  “Bob’s got a great physique, too. As I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

  “Ah, yes … of course. You know, Urban … I hope you haven’t been doing anything … reckless.”

  “Reckless?” Urban put on a show of innocence—and ignorance. “Such as?”

  “Behavior that could jeopardize your health.”

  “Such as?” the college jock repeated. “Oh—I bet you mean, drinking, smoking, using drugs, and fucking.”

  “Language,” the embarrassed coach cautioned.

  “Sorry, Coach. Well, I don’t smoke or do drugs.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “I like a little wine or beer now and then. No hard liquor, though. I know you don’t approve—”

  “Alcohol in moderation, with meals for example, that’s permission. The problem is you young men don’t believe in moderation. Binge drinking, that’s what I try to discourage.”

  They’d rinsed themselves. They turned off the showers, and reached for their towels.

  “And the fucking—I mean, the sexual activity? What about that?” Urban asked.

  “Same thing. In moderation.”

  “I really find that difficulty,” Urban confessed. “I wish I could talk to you about it.”

  “You can. I’m always available.”

  “Now?”

  “Well—yes. Of course. But not here. I think somewhere more private would be more appropriate. I’m hungry, after that workout. Are you?”

  “Ravenous.”

  “Why don’t we go to my place, and I’ll make us something?”

  “Great!” Urban exclaimed.

  Later, with the benefit of hindsight, Kolos realized that he should’ve offered to take Urban to a café and treat him there.

  “You may have one glass of wine,” Kolos decreed, pouring it out.

  “Whatever you say, Coach.”

  “If I end up having more than one, it’s because I’m older than you.”

  “And because you’re the boss, so you get to set the rules? Is that it?”

  “Precisely. Now, this is a recipe I found in an American bodybuilding magazine,” Kolos explained, as he prepared sandwiches for them. “It’s called a ‘tri-tip gruyere melt.’ Slices of tri-tip steak, cooked until they’re just medium rare. The cheese and some avocados, also sliced. Kale. Served on dark rye bread with a little mayonnaise and mustard. When the steak is cooked and the sandwiches are assembled, you heat them in a skillet, just enough to warm the bread and melt the cheese. It’s a nice healthy lunch, or late-night snack.”

  “Um, these are delicious,” Urban decreed, after he’d had his first bite.

  “Glad you like it.”

  “May I have a second glass of wine? This is a special occasion, after all.”

  “Oh? What’s so special about it?”

  “You inviting me here to your apartment, and being so nice to me.”

  Kolos was flustered. “Well, it’s my job to look after you guys. To advise you.” Giving in, he refilled Urban’s wineglass, and his own.

  “Now, about my sex life,” Urban said, in a brisk, businesslike manner, as though they were discussing some weightlifting routine.

  Kolos fought back a smile. “I must admit—I like the fact that you’re not shy about expressing yourself. You don’t seem to mind talking about such things.”

  “I don’t mind at all. In fact, once you get me started, you may have trouble shutting me up! Well, to begin with, in case you haven’t noticed, Coach, I’m gay,” Urban said.

  “Sometimes you don’t go out of the way to hide it.”

  “Why should I? Wouldn’t that be kind of hypocritical? Living a lie,”

  “I suppose so,” Kolos murmured.

  “I know you’re not married, Coach. Are you straight, gay, bi—?”

  “We’re not here to discuss my sex life, Urban.”

  “Why not? The thought’s occurred to me, I can hardly ask you to give me advice about how to handle my sex life, unless you have at least some first-hand experience at being gay. Do you? Are you in the closet? On the down low?”

  “Really, Urban! These are very personal questions—!”

  “Well, I’ll tell you something personal about me. I like older men,” Urban admitted. “Sexy older men—like you.”

  After that revelation, it didn’t take long for Kolos and Urban to end up in each other’s arms, embracing and kissing, feeling each other up restless through their clothes. Then, just as quickly, they went into Kolos’s bedroom, where they freed themselves from their restrictive clothes. Naked on the bed, they hugged each other again, rubbing their bodies together in an increasingly energetic, even frantic act of frottage, kissing with open mouths and probing tongues.

  “We shouldn’t be doing this,” Kolos protested, after they’d interrupted their kissing to come up for air for a moment—although his voice didn’t sound very convincing, even to his own ears.

  “Why not?” Urban asked.

  “Having sex with a student … and, worse, with one of my players—! I could get into trouble,” the soccer coach said.

 
“Yeah, I guess you could,” Urban agreed. “But doesn’t the risk make it even hotter? Come on, Coach. Let’s get into some trouble together. A lot of trouble! Right now!”

  Kozma groaned. He couldn’t resist the oversexed and uninhibited young athlete. “You young devil. Yes, that’s just what you are … the devil incarnate. A tempter!”

  “Yeah, I’m a horny fiend from hell. A sex fiend. Come on, Coach. Give in to the temptation. Let’s sin together.”

  “Franc [damn],” the older man muttered. “Go ahead. Have your way with me. Now I know how a male prostitute must feel. Required to perform on demand.”

  Before Kolos had time to change his mind, Zack took advantage of the man’s acquiescence. He quickly twisted his head down into Kolos’s crotch and stuck out his tongue, licking the man’s thighs, his balls, and the root of his cock. Kolos groaned with delight as he, too, developed a new hard-on, which soon jutted up proudly from his groin and vibrated fiercely against the wet pressure of Urban’s swabbing tongue.

  “Lick me, baby. Lick my cock! Aw, shit, yeah, your tongue feels so nice on me,” Kolos groaned, his fingers combing through Urban’s disheveled blond hair and massaging his scalp. “Lick, boy!”

  “I want to suck you,” Urban gasped, between licks at Kolos’s flesh. “Please, Kolos, let me suck your cock for you!”

  “Get down on it, boy! Do it! Suck me!”

  Urban teased Kolos at first, by raising his head and mouthing the big nipple on the hill of Kolos’s powerful chest muscle. He licked the stiff cone, he moaned when Kolos moaned, and he licked and sucked and bit the tit all the harder when Kolos shuddered and his big body arched up against Urban’s own body in response to the younger man’s lovemaking. Kolos shook with helpless arousal. More and more turned on by the mature guy, Urban ran his tongue downward along Kolos’s torso, and he explored the man’s navel with his stiffened tongue-tip. Both men sighed and shook together, their lust building to a peak, with Kolos’s hands stroking Urban’s shoulders and neck, his back and his buttocks.

  “Suck me, Urban, oh, suck on my cock now,” Kolos begged. “You’re getting me so hot, boy, with that mouth of yours. I can’t stand it!”