Muscular Man for Rent
Page 5
“No, thanks. I’m worn out,” he confessed, happily.
“Do you mind if I clean up a little?”
“Of course not. Take a shower, if you want to.”
“I think I will. Where’s the bathroom?”
He gestured. “That way, down the hall, on the right. Everything you need should be in there. Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
I went into his bathroom and stood under a hot shower for a long time, not even having the energy to soak myself at first, but finally giving myself a thorough scrubbing amidst the steam. After drying myself with a clean towel, I dusted myself with talcum powder, and then I inspected his quite extensive collection of men’s colognes. I selected a bottle and splashed some of on myself. It had an intriguing light, citrusy scent.
When I returned to the bedroom, he had aroused himself, but barely. He’d slipped on a bathrobe, and he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking a bit dazed and fucked out—but contentedly so.
He smiled at me. “Did you enjoy your shower?”
“I did, as a matter of fact.”
“I almost hate to see you put your clothes back on. But … I have to get some sleep. I have to go in to work tomorrow.”
I knew that this was his polite way of dismissing me—telling me that it was time for me to leave.
“So do I,” I said.
I retrieved my gloves, jockstrap, and lifting belt, and went into the living room. I put the items of workout gear back in my gym bag and zipped it up. Then I picked up my scattered clothes.
He had followed me.
“Excuse me,” he said, as I started to get dressed. “I forgot something.”
He went back into the bedroom, but he was gone for no more than a minute or two. When he returned, he had an envelope in his hand.
“Here you are,” he said, handing me the envelope. “Your money—and a little extra.”
“Thank you.” I pocketed the envelope, without inspecting its contents.
He escorted me through the living room, to the door. There, he hesitated, and then he kissed me—on the lips, lightly and tenderly. I got the impression that he didn’t always kiss his casual sex partners, and certainly not most of the hustlers he picked up.
“I want to see you again,” he said. “May I? Please. I have to see you again.”
“Of course. I’ll give you my cell phone number. Any time you have twenty thousand forints to spare, you just give me and a call, and I’ll come here. It’ll be a lot safer for you than hanging out at the train station. Think of it as an investment—an investment in your physical and mental health. When you look at it, I’m a hell of lot cheaper than a therapist.”
I gave him my number, and he kissed me again, before he let me out.
In the elevator on the way down, I opened the envelope. It contained not only my twenty-five thousand forints, but an extra ten thousand—a generous tip.
Instead of catching a bus home, I decided I could splurge, and catch a cab. It had been a most satisfactory and profitable evening. Best of all, I was sure I had a new regular customer, to add to my list.
Finis
Previews of My Personal Guest Poser and My Muscle Mentors
Available on Amazon:
My Personal Guest Poser
Synopsis:
A young Hungarian bodybuilder travels from his home town to Budapest to participate in a physique contest. Adding to Emeric’s excitement and anticipation, the guest poser at the event will be none other than one of his idols, American bodybuilding legend John Patrick Dawley. Emeric would be thrilled just to have a chance to meet Dawley and exchange a few words with him. But the muscular Hungarian lad ends up as the lucky recipient of much more. Not only does John Patrick go out of his way to befriend Emeric—he scraps his original plans to sample Budapest’s gay nightlife, in order to spend some time one-on-one with his young admirer. A private posing session in John Patrick’s hotel room leads to an explosive collision of hard muscle against hard muscle. No holds are barred in this very private physique contest. But both participants emerge from it as winners.
Excerpt:
“Please,” I groaned. “Oh, please, John Patrick—please let me do all of those things to you! Please let me worship your body, your muscles—!”
“I want to worship yours, too. Come here, buddy,” he urged. “Come here and take care of me. And if you do a good job … then I’ll take care of you, just as good. I promise.”
It was though I was hypnotized, and acting involuntarily. I slid off the edge of the bed, onto the floor, and I crawled quickly on my hands and knees toward John Patrick’s feet. Once I was between his legs, I ran my hands slowly up from his ankles to his crotch, and then higher, over his belly, up to his pecs, to his nipples. He sucked in his breath in a faint, hoarse rasp. His dick bobbed close to my face, throbbing with lustful pressure only inches from my slavering mouth.
“Yeah, that’s what I like,” he told me, in a voice that had suddenly gone husky with barely pent-up lust. “A gorgeous young muscle stud, down on his knees in front of me, getting ready to service me … getting ready to worship me. That’s what you want, isn’t it, baby? My body … and my cock. Look at my fucking cock, look at how hard it is. Damn! I’m dripping cum already, you’ve got me so fucking turned on, kid!” He tensed, and he let out a faint, stifled groan. “Get to work,” he whispered. But it wasn’t a command. It sounded more like a plea.
I got to work.
I began, methodically, to do everything he had mentioned. I kissed his feet, without hesitation, without shame. I licked them. I made my way slowly up past his ankles to his legs, kissing and licking his calf muscles, the backs of his knees, his thighs … kneeling on the carpeted floor, I twisted my body around his lower extremities, like a python encircling and entrapping its prey. I caressed his flesh not only with my lips and tongue, but of course with my hands as well, touching every part of his body that I could reach. At one point, while I was kissing John Patrick’s belly, marveling at the resilience of his tight abdominal muscles, I reached up to his chest. I captured his huge pecs in my palms, and I brushed my fingertips back and forth over the large, stiff cones of his nipples.
He emitted that same muffled groan of pleasure. He grabbed my wrists, raised my hands to his lips, and he began to kiss and lick my hands … sucking my fingers inside his mouth, one by one, sometimes two at a time, and slurping on them.
Moaning, I rubbed my face against his crotch, letting his cock and balls press against my cheek.
“Look at how hard my cock is,” he whispered.
I couldn’t just see it; I could feel it—the potent bulk of that erection, slapping against my face like a deadly phallic weapon. It was so big that I began to wonder whether I could fit it all inside my mouth without choking on it!
But I was soon to find out.
“Are you going to suck it?” he whispered.
“If you want me to.” I was so much in awe of him that what I wanted no longer seemed to matter.
“Oh, I do want you to. But don’t worry. I plan to reciprocate. I intend to reciprocate big time, with interest! Suck mine, and I’ll suck yours. And that’ll be just for starters.”
My Muscle Mentors
Synopsis:
A young Hungarian bodybuilder recalls his early experiences in the iron game. By his own admission, Emeric is obsessed with weight training. As he develops his physique, he begins to attract admirers. Some of these men are fellow bodybuilders. Others just like muscle. And who can blame them?
Excerpt:
Gyula slipped his finger out of my ass and tugged on my cock. “Get on the bed with me, man,” he whispered. “Let’s get comfortable, and do it right.”
I got onto the bed beside him, and he put his arms around me, kissing me furiously on the mouth. Our legs locked, and he slowly rolled me into the mattress on my back. Breaking the kiss, he scrambled down between my legs. I thought he was going to suck me again; but instead he reached in unde
r my knees and lifted both of my legs from the bed, placing them over his shoulders.
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I want to fuck you, buddy!”
My whole body tensed. “Hell, no!” I protested. “I don’t think I want to try that. Let’s just suck each other, the way we were doing—okay?”
He shook his head. “I want your ass,” he informed me, bluntly. “You’ve got me too worked up. I want to get my dick inside you. I want to shoot my jism into that hot, tight little asshole of yours!”
“Baszd meg! [Fuck off!]” I exclaimed.
I reached out and placed my palm on his stomach to hold him back as he drew closer, his cock swinging down toward my upraised butt.
“Don’t you like me? I thought we were friends,” he said, in a reproachful tone of voice.
“I like you just fine. I don’t want you to fuck me, that’s all.”
“Aw, you’re just nervous. There’s no need to be. You’re afraid it’s going to hurt. Trust me, it won’t. My cock is big, but it isn’t that big.”
It looked plenty damn big to me!
“You talk as if you’ve done this before,” I accused him.
“I have. Lots of times.”
“Fene! [Damn!] Did those other guys like it?”
“You bet they did. And you’re going to like it, too.”
“I’m not so sure. I’ve never been fucked before.”
“No time like the present, then,” he suggested, glibly. His eyes glittered with excitement, and he remained poised in readiness to penetrate me, making no motion to put my legs back down onto the bed. “It didn’t hurt when I had my finger inside your butt, did it? No,” he said, with a laugh, not giving me a chance to answer. “You said you liked how that felt. But you can’t imagine how good it’s going to feel to have my cock in there instead. Christ, I can remember the first time I got fucked! I thought I’d go out of my mind. I came all over the place. I never wanted the guy to take it out of me!”
What he was saying was true. I had enjoyed the sensation of his finger tingling inside my ass, and if his cock would have the same effect on me, then I would risk it. I told myself that I could surely overcome my fear.
“All right,” I said. “I’ll give it a try … if you really want us to.”
“Now you’re talking!” He bent forward and kissed me hard on the mouth. Then he knelt back, and he lifted my legs higher. I saw him dribble a puddle of saliva onto his palm, and then he spread it over the head of his cock and down the entire length of the shaft. He repeated the gesture twice, until his dick gleamed with a slippery wetness.
“Don’t tense up when you feel it going in you,” he advised me, bending his cock down to my asshole. “Just try to relax, and it’ll go in nice and easy … you’ll see.”
I wanted to get fucked. I had to find out what it would feel like to have another man’s cock inside me! I told myself that it couldn’t be so bad, if other guys did it. The thick head of Gyula’s stud prick pressed against my pucker. I clenched my teeth tightly together and I grabbed a handful of the sheet, twisting it around my fist, when he began to push himself inside me. I felt a blinding pain rip through my asshole as he wedged the head of his cock through it! I tried to use my other hand to push him back; but he shoved my hand away and he continued to press down onto me—and into me.
“Franc! [Hell!]” I grunted. “Oh, God! Gyula, don’t! It’s too fucking big! Take it out, please! It’s hurting me!”
“Relax,” he growled, his voice sounding almost angry. “Don’t be such a goddamn pussy! You’re fighting it—that’s the only reason it hurts.”
I did my best to slacken my tense anal muscles. When he pushed forward again, I felt my anus loosening—and, to my amazement, after a moment I had to admit that he was right. It didn’t hurt … in fact, it felt great!
“There,” Gyula declared, with audible satisfaction. His body rested solidly against the backs of my thighs, and his prick was jammed up my ass to the hilt, filling me completely with his pulsating manhood. “I’m in you. I’m all the way in you. How does it feel now?”
“Good,” I moaned. I reached up and put my hand around his neck, bringing his face down to mine. “It feels good, man!” Groaning, I tightened my asshole around the bulk of his prickshaft, as an experiment. As I did so, I felt the thick tool buried in my butt twitch in response to the sudden, extra pressure I had exerted upon it. “Fuck me, Gyula!” I told my buddy. “Go ahead. Oh, God, Gyula—go ahead and fuck me!”
Also by Emeric Varady
Available exclusively on Amazon:
A Porn Star is Born
Big Bad Cop: A Muscle Cop’s Story
Bisexual Bodybuilders: Bad Boy Bi Muscle Men and Their Wanton Women
Volume One: A Muscle Pup in Training
Volume Two: Big Brother Gives Bi a Try
Volume Three: Her Muscled Lovers
Volume Four: Pumped Up for Porn
Bisexual Gym Buddies
Bodybuilder Behind Bars 1: Caged Muscle
Bodybuilder Behind Bars 2: Under Heavy Guard
Bodybuilder Behind Bars 3: Doing Hard Time
Bodybuilder in Blue
Bodybuilder in Bondage 1: Basic Training
Bodybuilder in Bondage 2: Learning the Ropes
Bodybuilder in Bondage 3: Open All Night
Bodybuilder in Bondage 4: Give Him Enough Rope
Body Shop: Where Muscle Men Hustle
Budapest by Night
Foreign Body: An American Bodybuilder in Budapest
Gay for Pay Muscle: A Straight Stud Makes His Gay Porn Debut
Give Bi a Try: Two Muscle Men and Their Women
Going Commando: A Tale of Military Muscle
Gulf Coast Muscle: A Hungarian Bodybuilder in Florida
Hard Copy: A Porn Publisher’s Punishment
Hekus: The Hungarian Word for Cop
His American Muscle Buddy
His Muscle Pup
Izom: The Hungarian Word for Muscle
Magyar Muscle 1: A Croatian Adventure
Magyar Muscle 2: Camera Shy
Magyar Muscle 3: Big Guns
Magyar Muscle 4: Roid Rage
Magyar Muscle 5: Pumped Up for Porn
Magyar Raw
Make Mine Muscle!: Confessions of a Power Bottom Bodybuilder
Massage w/Xtras: Bathhouse Confessions
Men Hard at Work 1: The New Man on the Crew
Men Hard at Work 2: Power Tool
Men Hard at Work 3: Jackhammered
Musclebros: A Young Bodybuilder’s Adventures
Muscle Lake
Muscle Noir
Muscle Rub
Muscle Voyeur
Muscular Man for Rent
My Muscle Mentors
My Personal Guest Poser
Pecs
Police Brutality: Don’t Stop! I’m Going to Shoot!
Pumped Up and Pounded: A Tale of Muscle Submission
Rainy Night Blues
Stripped for Action: A Bodybuilder Breaks into the Movies
St. Stephen’s Fire
Taking the Waters
The Farmboy’s Physique: From Pig Farmer to Porn Actor
The Farmer’s Brother
Under the City’s Lights: Lust and Love in Budapest
Urban Delights: A Sensual Sojourn in America
Wanted: Hot Hungarian Men
Zsaru: Confessions of a Hungarian Cop