Interactive: Make It A Double, ch. 10 (Patreon)

“Reigning champs, comin’ through!”  Dylan shoved his way through the crowd, drinks in hand.  The tall jock loved the dirty looks from the people he shouldered out of the way as much as his two friends who trailed behind.  

“Would you assholes keep it on the field,” Brad sighed as the trio made their way back to the table.  

“Dude, relax,” Josh said, squaring his broad shoulders and looking around the crowded bar.  “We’re just letting the other teams know who’s boss.”  

Brad took a long pull from his beer and tried not to stare at Josh’s thick biceps.  The beefy man had already made it clear that he wasn’t interested in the slender ginger, but Brad had a hard time ignoring the view.  “The season hasn’t even started yet.”  

“Which means we’re still the champs,” Troy roared, slapping Brad hard on the back.  The lean man sidestepped the beer splashing out of his glass and glared over at the smug blonde.  

“It’s rec league softball, douchebag.  GAY rec league softball.  Keep the macho bullshit in your pants or the rest of the team is gonna boot you guys, no matter how good you are.”  

“That’s not where you wanted me to keep it,” Josh said, his trim beard highlighting his arrogant grin.  

“I’m just sayin’, might not be so easy this year.  Those guys over there have way bigger arms than even you.”  Brad nodded over at a table surrounded by men in tank-tops with huge, oversized pistons hanging off their otherwise toned frames.  

Josh flexed a hairy bicep proudly.  “I can still manage...too much size just gets in the way.”  

“Can’t wait to see how THAT gets in the way,” Dylan laughed, shifting his eyes over to an athletic looking brunette whose mammoth cheeks were spilling out the bottom of tiny lycra shorts.  He licked his lips and ran a hand through his cropped, chocolate hair, his eyes glued to the supple globes.  “An ass that fat...might have to break our rule about not fucking guys from other teams.”  

“I mean, Troy did last season…” 

The chiseled blonde glared over at Josh, fidgeting with his plastered-on t-shirt.  “I didn’t fuck him,” he said defensively, “I blew him.  There’s a difference.”  

Dylan only half-listened to his friends arguing, his attention focused on the way the man at the other table’s colossal cheeks shifted and flexed as he moved.  He couldn’t look away.  The sound of his friends and the bustling bar around him faded until all that remained were the plump mounds and his fantasies of what they’d feel like.  Dylan imagined himself slowly pulling the shorts down, squeezing and kneading the pillowy cheeks as he buried himself in the deep valley between them.  He’d fucked a lot of guys in his brief twenty four years, but none that had been that thick and bouncy.  His cock ached at the thought of it.  

“Dylan...yo, Dylan!”  

“Huh?”  The dazed jock blinked and shook his head, his attention snapping back to find Brad giving him a stern look.  “What?”  

“You’re practically drooling, big guy.  And you’ve almost got your shirt all the way off.”  

“What do you…” Dylan blushed when he looked down and discovered the fitted shirt that showed off his muscled torso had been unbuttoned down to his navel.  “I...I don’t…” he stammered, having no recollection of undoing the buttons.  “Did I do that?”  

“Who else would?”  Brad’s stern expression melted into a grin.  “I wondered how long it would take tonight.”  

“How long what would take?”  Dylan kept blinking and scratching at his head, increasingly feeling like he was one step behind in the conversation.  He had no idea what Brad was talking about, but more importantly he was having a hard time even focusing on his friend at all as his eyes kept wandering back to the stranger with the appealing rear. 

“At least you beat Troy this time.  Usually he’s the first to go,” the lean redhead shrugged.  

“Am not!”  

Dylan was as caught off guard by his blonde friend’s outburst as he was by the dull smile on the other man’s face.  Troy’s granite features were usually smug, but now the handsome stud’s grin was more goofy than arrogant as he stared at Dylan’s exposed pecs.  

“Aaaand there he goes,” Brad laughed, giving Troy’s perky bubble a gentle pat.  

“Nuh-uh,” the blonde jock protested.  “I’m not stupid…I’m just lookin’!”  

Dylan’s rigid club strained against his tight jeans as he watched Troy stare at him the way he’d been staring at the stranger.  He and the blonde adonis fooled around regularly, but something about the other man’s slack-jawed gaze turned him on more than ever.  He didn’t even notice he’d opened his shirt the rest of the way until he was shrugging it over his striated shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.  “Now you,” he barked, pulling on Troy’s thin shirt so hard he nearly tore it off.  

“Okay!” Heads were starting to turn as the strapping blonde stripped his shirt off and tossed it aside.  It was hard to ignore the two bare-chested studs laughing and pawing at each other, especially when they were as built as Troy and Dylan.  People were already familiar with their broad shoulders and tapering waists on the softball field, but this was a new look for the smug pair.  

A part of Dylan was vaguely aware that something was wrong.  As he giggled and groped at Troy’s slab of a chest, a quiet alarm bell was ringing in the back of his foggy brain.  He knew their behavior wasn’t right, but even that simple observation was exhausting.  When he reached down and started undoing his friend’s pants he had a fleeting moment of pause, a stab of fear that told him he was losing control.  It fled as quickly as it came, gone entirely by the time Troy’s jeans landed at his ankles.  He would have asked his friend if he felt the same way, but even speech was becoming difficult.  Looking at the blonde’s small, tented briefs, all Dylan could do was grunt hungrily and paw at his own confining pants.  He was becoming a creature of impulse, his actions driven by nothing but the aching member between his solid thighs.  

He managed a pleading look in Brad’s direction, but his wiry friend was too busy tugging on Josh’s fat, wide cock to notice.  Like them, the short, stocky man had stripped down, his hairy muscle entirely on display with the same dull, contented expression on his face.  The guys from the other teams had formed an audience, watching the trio’s antics with a mix of hunger and condescension.  

Dylan couldn’t fully understand.  He knew he recognized the guys watching him peel out of his briefs, but the concepts of “teams” and “softball” were beyond him at the moment.  They were smiling and laughing as they pointed at him, which Dylan took to mean they were happy like he and Troy were.  He didn’t know some of the things they were telling him to do, but that didn’t matter.  They seemed to like it when he tugged on his long, dripping cock, and some of the guys would even help him out.  The man with the tiny shorts and the huge bottom wouldn’t let him fuck him, but he did let him squeeze his watermelon cheeks.  Dylan grinned and laughed along with everyone else as he clutched the giant globes with one hand and frantically tugged on his cock with the other.  

The crowd seemed extra happy when the man finally pulled away and Dylan’s hand reached around to toy with his own solid rear.  Everyone cheered when he started shifting his weight and playing with his hole, but he didn’t understand why.  He wasn’t happy; he was frustrated and desperate, and the more he pouted the more the crowd seemed to enjoy it.  

Before Dylan could get too upset, the confused jock felt Troy’s steely arms wrap around his tiny waist an instant before the blonde’s lengthy pole rammed inside.  Dylan howled, his rocky calves flexing as he went up on his toes at the sudden entry.  He writhed against Troy’s chest, thrashing from the sheer, overwhelming intensity of what he felt.  He grunted and barked out guttural moans, his long cock slapping up against his washboard abs and wagging wildly as Troy went at him in an animalistic frenzy.  Next to them, he watched Josh’s hairy bulk bounce and shake as Brad slammed into his plump, furry rear, the stocky man’s thick hose spraying like a shaken can of soda.  

“GGGNNNNOOHHHHHHH….!”  Dylan howled, his vision blurring at his own release.  The room seemed to spin and vanish entirely, his existence reduced to nothing but the experience of pure, momentary bliss.  “Ohhhh….oh fuck…” he moaned when his surroundings came back into view.  His sculpted, heaving chest glistened with sweat while he tried to piece together what just happened.  “What’d we just...do…” he stammered, blushing when he realized he was naked, his dripping cock hanging on display.  His stomach sank when he looked around at the smug, amused faces watching as Troy pulled his softening organ from his battered bubble.  

“What do you mean?”  Brad asked, stuffing himself back in his pants.  Josh was going through a similar awakening, shaking his head and rubbing his bearded face as if he’d just woken up from a nap.  “It’s what you three always do.  Why do you think we drink for free here?”  

“We...do?”  Dylan knew something about that didn’t sound right, but he didn’t know why.  He looked over at his blushing friends for some sort of explanation, but as soon as he looked at Josh’s softening beast and hairy thighs he could feel his tenuous grip start to loosen again.  Something in his head told him he should be getting dressed, but he couldn’t get his limbs to cooperate.  

“Do I have to explain this every time?”  Brad sighed and rubbed Dylan’s glistening abs.  “It’s okay, stud.  Everyone knows you three can’t help it.  Once these,” he said, hefting the taller man’s heavy package, “get goin’ everything up here goes south.”  He laughed as he pointed at his head and made a whistling sound.  “But everyone loves it!  You three put on a hell of a show...it’s why you’re the champs.”  

**********

“And to think I used to hate sports,” Zack laughed.  The slender, dark skinned young man took a deep breath and turned back to the bar as the crowd dispersed from around the naked trio.  “That’s a league I can get behind.”  

Adam made a sour face and shook his head.  “Ugh, no thanks.  I don’t need a doctor but I’m not tryin’ to fuck a caveman.”  

Zack reached over and poked the solid, massive organ snaking down Adam’s leg.  “Uh-huh...sure you aren’t.” 

“I didn’t say it wasn’t hot,” the hung viking laughed, adjusting his oversized equipment.  “Those three are fun to look at, but come on.  Is Brad a boyfriend or a babysitter?  Every time they get hard they get dumb.  And they’re ALWAYS hard.”  

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Zack sighed, looking around.  He spotted Franky lingering at the edge of the crowd, the older man’s short, burly body as on display as the trio of athletes in his small crimson thong.  

“Maybe you’re just used to it,” Adam said, shrugging his bowling ball shoulders.  

The younger man smiled as he watched the little meathead get back to work, waddling from table to table.  “A beast in bed and too dumb to argue when you tell ‘em to do something? Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”  

Ben walked back just in time to share in Zack’s triumphant grin.  He was particularly proud of his latest work.  Troy, Josh and Dylan had been a thorn in their side for years, and he couldn’t have been more pleased with their new role in life.  The young jocks had always acted every bit the big fish in the little pond, lording their looks and athletic prowess over everyone they met.  They were handsome and built enough to get away with it most of the time, and they knew it.  The three chewed through guys at a rapid pace, and even Ben had a mediocre encounter with Dylan back when he first started, before he knew better.  

Since the smug trio was so focused on their bodies Ben thought it only fitting that they go all the way.  From now on, whenever they were even slightly aroused, the trio would quickly lose brain power as their impulses took control.  Ben made sure that it would be seen as normal, so no matter where they were no one would bat an eye if one of them turned into a grunting jock dropping his pants and jerking himself off in the middle of the grocery store.  And considering how eager the virile young athletes were, Ben doubted they’d have time to think about much of anything but getting off for the foreseeable future, with just enough awareness between releases to be humiliated by their actions.  They wouldn't be playing as many sports, but it was clear they were still a hit with the other teams.  He’d always felt slightly bad for the way they teased Brad, but if the lean ginger was willing to stick around and enable their behavior Ben thought it fair that he be the one to take care of them.  At least it looked like he’d have some fun in the process.  

Looking at the still naked jocks surrounded by the growing numbers of disproportionate men from the gym, Ben couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride at what the bar was becoming.  Each night was another opportunity for change, and it was only a matter of time until everyone in there was a unique creation.  

“So many possibilities,” he sighed to himself, reaching under the bar to drum his fingers against the warm, pulsing cover of the book.  “So, so many…”