Bisexual Bodybuilders Vol 1

by Emeric Varady

  Feverishly, Urban moved his lips downward, parting Kolos’s legs with his hands and sucking the guy’s balls inside his juicy, saliva-drooling mouth. Slowly, erotically, Urban ate his way around every furry fold of the flesh on the sac of Kolos’s puckered balls. Then, just as deliberately, he released both nuts and he worked his oral way back, up toward the thick, stiff shaft of his cock. Urban kissed the swollen cockhead, and then he sank his mouth down over it and the hot, quivering column of phallic flesh.

  “Ah, yeah, suck me, you pretty boy—you’re so damn good at it,” Kolos cried. “You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve had sex with in a long while, you stud! Suck! That’s right, suck! You’re all man, you sexy cocksucker, you!”

  Excited by Kolos’s violent response to his oral lovemaking, Urban made hot love to the man’s prick with all the expertise at his command, using his lips, tongue, teeth, and throat to arouse the older guy. He took the man’s meaty dick deep, deep down into his gullet, until he could scarcely breathe. He blew Kolos for a long time, oblivious of the passing of time.

  Then, gasping, he pulled his mouth away from the hot older guy’s prick, and he moaned, “I’d like you to come in my mouth. But I’d really like you to come in my ass! Go ahead and fuck me, Kolos. I want you to screw me!”

  “Let me rim you first, to get your asshole good and wet,” his sex partner whispered, eagerly. “I want to taste that sweet-looking hole of yours!”

  “Yeah, whatever you want, anything. I’m yours, man—do whatever the hell you want to me.”

  Urban turned over in Kolos’s grip and lay face down, and Kolos plunged his face between the soccer player’s spread-open ass cheeks. His mustache tickled Urban’s tailbone at the base of his spine, while he sought out Urban’s asshole and rasped his tongue rapidly over its pucker. Urban shivered with lewd delight, his glutes clenching, the buttock muscles tightening against the other man’s face.

  Kolos sucked his ass, tongued it, harder, faster, deeper. Urban grunted, trembled, and began to hump the mattress on which he lay, fucking the bed with his painfully hard dick, breathing much harder and faster.

  “Yeah!” he panted. “Suck my ass! Suck it! Do it. Oh, Christ, do it to me!”

  Finally, Kolos pulled himself upward over Urban’s vibrating, sweat-glowing body. Then, his cock gleaming with spit, he entered the young athlete’s ass.

  “Goddamn you, boy, your asshole’s so fucking tight, like a little boy’s, like a virgin’s. But I’m pushing it into you, I’m fucking your hot butch ass for you. I’m in, baby, I’m in! In you! Ah, Christ!”

  “Yeah, Kolos, fuck me, fuck me! I want it. I want to feel your big prick going in and out of me like that, all night!”

  “Yeah! Hell, yeah, kid! Oh, goddamn! You’re such a hot fuck,” Kolos groaned. He let his prick sink slowly into Urban’s manhole, deeply and fully. Then, with another, louder groan, Kolos stretched out on top of Urban, with his cock plunged to its fullest possible extent inside the young muscle stud’s body. “Let’s fuck for a long, long time, baby. Let’s make it last!”

  Their bodies moved together as one, humping and writhing in slow, deep, penetrating rhythms. Urban took every inch of Kolos’s cock and he exulted in the man’s possession and use of him. He fucked back whenever Kolos thrust into him, while they muttered encouragements and words of endearment softly but urgently to each other in the dark bedroom, their naked bodies squirming lewdly against each on top of a tangle of crumpled, sweat-soaked sheets.

  “Bassza meg, kurva anyádat! [Fuck it, motherfucker!]” Urban yelled at one point. “Fuck that hole!”

  “Oh, nice mouth!” Kolos pretended to be shocked. “Who taught you such language?”

  “My soccer coach,” Urban shot back. “He did a good job, didn’t he? Just like he’s doing a good job of fucking me, now!”

  Kolos fucked Urban for a long time, as he had promised. But, inevitably, he reached his bursting point, with his dick stuck inside that hotly responsive ass. While Kolos pumped his tool in and out of Urban’s butt harder and more urgently, stroking the entire length of the younger guy’s anus with his pulsating yet inflexible shaft, his hand groped underneath Urban’s belly, where it found his rock-hard prick. He squeezed it, roughly.

  “Can’t come, can you, huh, you horny young bastard?” Kolos taunted Urban, grunting. “Fuck! I’ll make you come, before I’m done fucking you! I swear to God I will. You’ll come for me, boy!”

  “Yeah, you’re doing it to me, you’re pushing me over the edge. I think I’m going to come! Fuck!”

  Kolos manipulated Urban’s penis until he felt Urban’s hot juice squirt suddenly through his fast-working fingers, and next he felt his own tight, pounding loins spasm and expel his semen deep into Urban’s ass. In the height of their erotic ecstasy the two men moaned and shook, and they called out each other’s names, both of them near hysteria with passion.

  Then, having collapsed, they separated, but only for a moment, each man lost in his post-orgasmic stupor. Reeking of sweat and jism, they then clutched at each other until Kolos rolled over on top of Urban again, but face to face this time. Kolos silenced his young lover’s moans with a deep, long, warm kiss. They lay together, resting, in each other’s arms, for a good ten or fifteen minutes, before Kolos rolled away from him and slipped out of the bed.

  Naked, Kolos leaned over the bed to kiss Urban again, lingeringly, and he ran his hand over Urban’s sweaty face and short hair. He touched Urban’s chest, caressing him, as though reluctant to let go and tear himself away. But then he did break the contact, and he stood up, beside.

  Then he used the flat of his hand to deliver a smart, stinging slap on Urban’s bare ass.

  “Ow!” Urban protested.

  “Don’t think you’re going to lie there and to sleep,” Kolos said. “It’s time to get up, and hit the shower.”

  “Shit!” Urban complained. “I guess you can take the coach out of the gym, but you can’t take the locker room out of him!”

  “Discipline—the kind of discipline I’ve tried to teach you and your slacker teammates—is important. In sports, and in other areas of life.”

  Urban grinned. “Including sex?”

  “Yeah, there, too. Don’t delude yourself that you’re going to get any special privileges, or that you’re going to be allowed to start slacking off, just because I’ve let you take advantage of me. I’m still your coach first, and your personal whore second.”

  “Yeah,” Urban grumbled, as he hauled his ass out of the bed. “Whores do what their customers tell them to do. Not the other way around!”

  “They get paid in cash, too,” Kolos reminded him. “And more than I make at the university! Come on, don’t dawdle.”

  And so Urban and his coach became lovers. In retrospect, it seemed only inevitable.

  Chapter Eight: Anyone Her Husband Can Do

  In the aftermath of sex, Adolar, like most men, tended to become a little careless.

  He gave Bob his personal cellphone number, and encouraged him to use it. The result was a flurry of text messages, back and forth between the gym owner and his new young lover, on Monday morning.

  I really had a good time this weekend, Bob assured Adolar.

  So did I, Adolar replied. It was incredible.

  When can I see you again?

  Soon, I hope.

  Come to my dorm room, Bob urged. Tonight?

  That’s not such a good idea, Bob. Remember, we need to be discreet. If the other guys at your school see you entertaining an older man in your room—! Could give you a reputation. One as bad as mine! It’ll be better if you come to my place.

  When?

  Any time you want.

  Okay, Bob texted back.

  He interpreted Adolar’s invitation perhaps a little more literally than the married man had intended. On Monday afternoon, no sooner had Bob gotten out of his last class for the day, than he showed up in the vestibule of the Mezeys’ apartment. He rang the doorbell.

  Vane
ssza had just gotten home from work. She was alone, lazing about, unwinding after her day. She’d hung up her dress, and taken off her slip. Removing her stockings, she was about to take off her bra and panties, in anticipation of treating herself to a long, hot shower, when she heard the doorbell. She grabbed her robe and slipped it on, before she went to answer the intercom.

  “Yes? Who’s there?” she asked.

  “Ah—my name is Bob, I mean Robert—and I’m looking for Mr. Mezey—?” a flustered Bob replied, haltingly. For some reason, probably his mind was befuddled by lust, making clear thinking difficult or impossible, it simply hadn’t occurred to him that a woman’s voice would answer.

  “Oh.” What a surprise! Vanessza thought. “Come right up.” She buzzed Bob through the downstairs security door.

  Opening the apartment door, she was pleased by what she saw. Bob stood there, looking boyishly shy. His casual clothes did nothing to conceal his husky young physique. He looked like the epitome of wholesome young manhood.

  “Hello,” Vanessza said.

  “I’m looking for Mr. Mezey,” Bob told her.

  “I’m Mrs. Mezey.”

  Bob was stunned. He’d assumed, rather naïvely, that the reason Adolar was gay, or bisexual, or whatever, was because his wife didn’t satisfy him. In his imagination, Bob had pictured the mysterious Mrs. Mezey in a variety of different ways, all of them unflattering—as several years older than her handsome stud of a husband, maybe. As overweight. As homely. As “a real dog,” as his fellow male students callously referred to any girl whom they found unattractive.

  But the woman standing in the doorway was a knockout! She was young, she was beautiful, she was built—and, above all, she positively exuded sensuality. She was pure sex!

  After his wild weekend of man-to-man sex with Adolar, Bob had convinced himself that he was exclusively, one hundred per cent, gay. Now, suddenly, he wasn’t so sure. To his utter confusion and embarrassment, he found himself responding to Mrs. Mezey’s allure in the most primitive, purely physical way possible. The sight of the pro bodybuilder’s wife was giving him a hard-on!

  Lust and guilt strove for ascendency within him. Lust, predictably, won out.

  “My husband isn’t here, right now,” Vanessza said.

  “Oh. I should’ve called, first. Well, maybe I can come back later. Or I could leave him a message—?”

  “He might get home, any minute now. Why don’t you come in and wait for him?”

  “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “You wouldn’t be. Please, come in. Make yourself at home.” Not that you haven’t already have, from what I’ve heard, Vanessza thought, wryly.

  Like a lamb following the Judas goat in a slaughterhouse, Bob followed Vanessza inside the house.

  “Forgive me for not being dressed,” she said. “I was about to jump into the shower, you see.”

  “That’s okay. I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

  “Oh, no harm done. The shower can wait. I enjoy having company, as a matter of fact. I like to entertain my husband’s friends. Especially his fans, and other bodybuilders—which often amounts to same thing. I know who you are, of course,” Vanessza remarked, as she took Bob into the living room.

  “Do you?”

  “Your name’s Bob, isn’t it, didn’t you say?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “My husband has told me so much about you.”

  “Has he?”

  “Yes, everything.”

  “Everything?”

  “There seems to be an echo in here,” Vanessza said, playfully. “Well, maybe Adolar hasn’t told me everything, but he’s told me quite a lot. I know that you run that website, The Muscle Forum. You’re one of my husband’s biggest fans, aren’t you? You’ve made quite an impression on him.”

  To her delight, she saw that she’d succeeded in making Bob blush. God, he was sweet. So fresh and innocent. Her need to fuck him simply welled up inside her, like an irresistible tide. She fought to control herself.

  “Mr. Mezey is a great guy,” Bob said, with guileless fervor.

  “Yes, isn’t he? Of course, like all men, he has his little quirks. He has his kinky side, you know.”

  “His kinky side?” Bob repeated, blankly.

  “There’s that echo again. Oh, maybe ‘kinky’ is the wrong word for it. ‘Open-minded’ or ‘versatile’ might be preferable. You see, for one thing, Adolar likes both men and women. But how silly of me! Of course, you already know all about that, Bob. You know that Adolar and I have what’s often called ‘an open marriage’ … and you, of all people, know how much he enjoys having sex with men.”

  “Oh, no, Mrs. Mezey. I swear—!”

  “Ah, maybe you’d better not swear, Bob. I’d hate for you to perjure yourself. Don’t bother to deny it. You’ve slept with my husband, haven’t you? Although, knowing Adolar, I doubt that either of you got much sleep. I saw the semen stains, when I put the sheets in the washer. There’s nothing for you to be embarrassed about, Bob. I’m well aware of the fact that my husband is bisexual. And I really don’t mind. I’m grateful, actually, that he’s found himself a nice young man like you. I might feel different if Adolar let himself get involved with some silly, superficial little twink.” Vanessza paused. She smiled sweetly at Bob, who stood there, gaping at her. “But I’m forgetting my manners,” she said. “When you rang the bell, I was about to make myself a drink. What can I get you?”

  “Nothing, Mrs. Mezey. Nothing, thank you anyway.”

  “Oh, do call me Vanessza. I want us to be good friends. And you’re my guest. You must have something to drink.”

  “I’m in training, Mrs. Mezey. I mean, Vanessza. My coach doesn’t allow us guys who are on the soccer team to drink.”

  “Well, your coach isn’t here, is he? My husband’s fairly disciplined when it comes to his diet, but he’s been known to bend his own rules, every now and then. He’s hardly in a position to criticize you for having one little drink—now, is he?”

  “Uh—I guess not,” Bob blurted out.

  “I’m going to have a scotch, straight up. Won’t you join me?”

  “If you insist. I’ll have the same, I guess.”

  Vanessza poured out the drinks. She handed Bob one of the filled glasses.

  “I’d like to propose a toast,” she said. “Here’s to my horny husband, and his boyfriends.”

  “Really, Mrs. Mezey! I mean—Vanessza,” Bob protested.

  “Oh, I’m only teasing you, Bob. Can’t you take a joke? Come on, drink up.” Vanessza touched her glass to Bob’s, and then she set him a good example to follow by drinking down the scotch. Nervously, Bob gulped some of his own drink.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t stick around,” Bob suggested.

  “Nonsense. I enjoy having you here. It’s so nice of you to keep me company. I want us to get to know each other better … much better. And Adolar will be so disappointed if he comes home and finds that he’s missed you. Now, what can I do to entertain you, until he gets here?”

  “I don’t know. You’re doing just fine, so far.”

  “Tell me, Bob. Which do you prefer, men or women?”

  Stunned by the unexpected question, Bob gave a spontaneous, truthful answer. “I don’t know.”

  “Did you enjoy having sex with my husband?”

  “I loved it,” Bob admitted, without guile.

  “You dear boy. I know that Adolar enjoyed it, too. You’re just the type that he likes. But when it comes to women … are you afraid of them?”

  “No,” Bob insisted, defiantly. “Not at all!”

  “Do you like fucking women?”

  “We really shouldn’t be talking about such things.”

  “Of course we should. Why shouldn’t we? Don’t be silly, Bob. Don’t be shy. You can tell me anything.”

  “I’ve only been with one woman. And one man,” Bob confessed.

  “And the one man was my husband?”

  “Yeah.”


  “At least you have good taste, and you’ve started at the top. But not a very big sample, to draw any conclusions about sexual preference from. Maybe if you had more experience—?”

  “Yeah, I’ve thought of that, myself.”

  “You can gain some more today, if you like. Right now. With me.”

  Bob’s eyes widened in shock. “With you?”

  “With me.”

  “No kidding?”

  “No kidding.”

  “What about Adolar?”

  “He won’t mind. He’d be delighted, as a matter of fact, to know that the two of us are getting along so well. Take my word for it.” Brazenly, Vanessza opened the front of her robe, as though she was modeling lingerie. “Do you like what you see?”

  Bob gaped at her. “Yeah!”

  “Do I turn you on?”

  “You’re beautiful,” Bob breathed.

  “Why, thank you, Bob. Would you like to make love to me?”

  “Yes!” the boy exclaimed. “Well,” he added, after a moment’s thought. “If you’re sure Adolar wouldn’t mind?”

  “You let me worry about Mr. Hungary,” Vanessza assured him. “He may be hot shit on the physique circuit, but here at home, I’m the boss.” She shed the robe, and she stood there in the living room in front of him, in her skimpy, provocative bra and panties. “Take off your clothes, Bob,” she urged him.

  “Right here?”

  “Of course. Where else? And I’m sure it won’t be the first time you’ve been undressed, here in this very room. I’m well aware of how my husband likes to entertain his male friends. You two did it on the floor, in front of the fire, didn’t you? And then, later, he took you upstairs, into our bed?”

  “I guess you know everything, ma’am. There’s no point in trying to keep any secrets from you, is there?”

  “None whatsoever. Come on, don’t be shy. Let me see what you look like, naked. Let me see what Adolar has been helping himself to.”

  Quickly, Bob stripped, tossing his clothes onto the floor.

  “Oh, my God,” Vanessza moaned, at her first sight of his naked body. “You’re quite a stud. No wonder Adolar—oh, fuck!”