Rotary (Patreon)

When it started ringing, Owen assumed it was a joke.  The old rotary phone wasn’t connected to anything, so he thought it must be some kind of prank or gag gift.  He had his suspicions, but he still didn’t know for sure who’d sent it to him.  It was certainly the kind of joke one of his friends would pull, but none of the guys were good at keeping secrets and one of them would have been quick to take credit.  Owen knew whoever it was had to have the code to his building since it had shown up outside his apartment door, but that still left a wide pool to choose from.  It also included several jilted exes, though he doubted any of them were the type to leave so esoteric a message.  True, he’d cheated on all of them, but leaving an antique phone outside his door seemed a bit too high-brow for them.  

Owen went for girls who had body over brains.  The smug jock prided himself on his own impressive looks, and he was really only interested in a woman for her skills in bed and how she complemented his appearance when they were out.  With his perfectly styled blonde hair, chiseled jaw, and tapering, gym-sculpted body, Owen felt like he was doing them a favor.  After all, he reminded them constantly, they got to ride his meaty cock, something he had women lined up around the block for.  If they didn’t like hearing that, or if they wanted something else, there were plenty of willing ladies to take their place.  Owen thought he was being plenty transparent about only wanting a nice set of tits and a pretty face, not a relationship, and he still didn’t understand why so many of them got upset when they learned he was fucking someone else.  He couldn’t blame them for being sad about losing access to a prime specimen like himself, but they had their chance.  They should’ve just stayed in their lane, he told them, and remembered what their real job was.  

Which still left the phone’s origin a mystery.  There’d been a knock on his door the day before, and he’d found the phone sitting in an unmarked box decorated in the same black and silver that covered the old rotary-dial itself.  At first glance there was nothing setting it apart from a normal phone, save for its age.  It looked like something sold in a vintage shop, with a shiny black body trimmed in chrome.  There wasn’t a cord attached, so Owen couldn’t have hooked it up even if he’d wanted to, which made its sudden ringing all the more surprising.  He’d lifted the handset on instinct, a buzzing, tinny voice greeting him when he held it to his ear.  

“Not yet.  Not yet.  Not yet.  Not yet.” The message repeated over and over, like a recorded operator, before a frantic busy signal took its place.  The phone started ringing again as soon as Owen hung up, but it didn’t stop when he answered a second time.  It never stopped.  Try as he might, the frustrated pretty boy couldn’t find a way to turn it off.  There were no buttons other than the rotary dial and the switch hook, and the metal casing was seamless, without any screws or other method of getting inside.  He finally took it out and threw it in the dumpster, telling himself that the ringing he still heard was just the noise getting stuck in his head after so long, but as soon as he stepped back into his apartment he saw the phone waiting for him on the counter where he’d left it.  Owen tried to convince himself that he’d just forgotten to bring it, but after two more trips to the dumpster and two more discoveries of the phone waiting for him in his apartment, he finally started to believe that something strange was happening.  There was still no answer when he picked up the receiver, just the relentless ringing.  

He tried to smash it, but the phone wouldn’t break, nor could he get it to melt when he tried to burn it in the alley behind his building.  He even took it with him on a jog to the beach, noting how no one else seemed to hear it ringing as he ran down the crowded sidewalks.  He eventually chucked it into the surf from the end of a long pier, still hearing the ringing as if he was holding the phone in his hands.  He couldn’t outrun the pervasive sound no matter how fast he sprinted.  He pushed his athletic frame to the point where his sculpted muscles burned beneath a soaking layer of sweat, his lungs heaving and his heart racing, but louder than his pounding heart and panting breath was the metallic clanging ringing in his brain.  

Owen wasn’t hearing the sound with his ears.  He tried to plug them when he opened the door to his apartment and found the perfectly dry phone sitting exactly where he’d feared, but it only made the sound louder.  It was as if the repetitive rattle was coming from within him, not the phone, vibrating his bones as the sound coursed through his veins.  There was no escaping it.  He tried to go through his days as normal, but his attempts at hitting the gym were futile as no amount of lifting could drown out the sound, and work was impossible with the constant ringing preventing him from concentrating in the slightest.  

It was starting to drive him crazy.  He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t bring anyone home to fuck, he couldn’t even jerk off without the omnipresent clanging.  He called his friends in a rage, accusing them of being jealous and trying to sabotage him when they claimed they couldn’t hear any ringing.  No one else could.  He tried his neighbors, his landlord, and even the building maintenance person, but they all just looked at him like he was losing his mind.  Had he been more lucid, Owen wouldn’t have blamed them.  He hadn’t slept in days, leaving his normally styled hair messy and wild, and his normally smooth cheeks covered in a scrubby stubble.  Coupled with the crazed look in his eyes, the handsome hunk was a far cry from his usual, charming self.  

Now, after several days of the auditory torture, Owen was at the end of his rope.  He didn’t know where he ended and the ringing began anymore.  Like stepping out onto dry land and still feeling the phantom surf after being in the ocean for too long, his body seemed to vibrate in time with the ever present rattle.  Without knowing what else to do, he picked up the receiver for what felt like the thousandth time, holding it for several moments before realizing that the ringing had finally stopped.  His hand shook as he lifted the phone to his ear, not hearing a tinny operator’s voice this time, but his own.  

“Dude, I’m just sayin’.  It’s bullshit that we have to play this game.  I have to sit around and pretend to listen to what she’s saying, like I give a fuck, when we both know what she really wants?  Nah, man, I want a girl who keeps it simple.  All she’s gotta do is look sexy and keep that mouth shut until she’s using it for something useful.”  

Owen stood and blinked at the phone in his hand when the message stopped.  He didn’t know how someone had recorded him, or even when that specific conversation had taken place or who he’d been talking to.  It was the kind of misogynistic trash talking thing he often said to the guys, so it could have been any number of occasions with just about any of them.  But all that mattered in the moment was the blissful silence.  

“Thank fuckin’ christ,” Owen groaned, his broad shoulders dropping as he relaxed for the first time in days.  He held his breath as he hung up the receiver, letting it out in a slow sigh of relief when the phone stayed silent.  “Please, please, please tell me this is over,” he muttered to himself as he rubbed his sleepy face.  Owen tensed as soon as his palms made contact.  Instead of feeling the rough stubble that should have been there, his sharp, lean cheeks were totally smooth.  “What the hell…?”  The confused stud started to head for the bathroom but froze after only a step, his eyes going wide.  He should have been wearing a pair of loose boxers, but as he looked down past his chiseled torso, Owen saw that he was stuffed into a pair of small turquoise briefs.  The soft, paper-thin fabric left none of his girthy package to the imagination, and he could feel a draft on the exposed sides of his solid, perky rear.  

Owen blushed, the embarrassment hitting him before the fear.  He was a strict boxer or boxer briefs guy, letting the girls he hooked up with be the ones to wear the skimpy underwear.  He didn’t even own anything like the bright, tiny briefs, and had no idea where they’d come from, let alone how he could possibly be wearing them all of a sudden.  

The addled blonde was interrupted by a pounding on his door before he could investigate further.  His heart jumped at the sound, afraid the ringing had started up again, and he instinctively moved to silence the noise.  He was still so disoriented from the days of incessant ringing that he had his hand on the knob and the door half open by the time he remembered what he was wearing.  

Owen was relieved to see his friend Parker standing on the other side, though he was confused by the brawny man’s stern expression.  “Well?  Here I am.  Are you happy now?” the strapping brunette barked, shoving his way into the apartment.   

The brief-clad blonde didn’t know how to respond.  A part of him was still embarrassed at being caught in the revealing little briefs, but a larger, louder part was focused fully on his friend.  Owen’s stomach fluttered at the sight of Parker’s broad, beefy torso spilling out of his loose muscle shirt, and the way the other man’s meaty legs filled out the baggy mesh of his shorts.  It was Parker’s standard uniform, something Owen had seen countless times, but now the view stopped him in his tracks.  “I...I don’t know what you’re…” 

Parker rolled his eyes and folded his thick arms across his bulging chest.  “Goddamn, babe.  You used to be a hell of a lot less maintenance,” he said, his tone exasperated.  “You know I’ve got other shit going on.  I can’t just drop what I’m doing to come over here every time you want a piece.  You’ve gotta knock it off with all the crazy calls and messages, alright?”  

Owen felt like the apartment was spinning around him.  He had no idea what Parker was talking about, but he was more concerned with his reaction to it.  The other man had just stormed into his apartment and was yelling at him like he was a child throwing a temper tantrum, but instead of yelling back, Owen just stood there.  He felt like he should be drawing himself up and puffing his chest out, squaring off with the burly hulk.  Parker had more size, but they were the same height, and Owen was confident he could take the bigger man.  They’d wrestled and rough housed before, and the lean blonde knew he was more nimble and dextrous, but instead of looking intimidating he felt himself blush as he stared bashfully at the ground.  “I...I’m sorry?” he said, his normally confident voice soft and trembling.  

“You should be,” Parker grumbled.  “The last thing I need is some clingy bird chirping in my ear all the time, no matter how pretty they are.”  

Even through the growing fog of confusion, Owen felt a rush of pride at hearing Parker call him pretty.  He knew he shouldn’t be taking it as a compliment, especially considering his friend’s arrogant, condescending tone when he also called him things like “babe” and a chirping bird, but it still made his cock twitch.  “I’m sorry, I just...it’s been a weird few days and I...I just needed…” 

“Oh, I know what you needed,” Parker interrupted, his stern expression softening to a smug grin.  “And I’m flattered you’re so hooked, but you gotta chill the fuck out, alright?  You keep this up and you’re gonna drive all the guys away, and no one wants that, do they?”  Parker stepped forward, running a hand through Owen’s short blonde hair and gripping the back of his head.  

The nearly-naked jock could only squirm and tremble under his friend’s piercing stare, feeling small and insecure for the first time since childhood.  He was still trying to figure out what Parker was talking about, especially now that he was referencing the other guys, but he was too distracted by the meaty hunk’s overwhelming presence.  “O...okay,” he said, nodding meekly.  

“Good!” Parker grinned, pulling Owen forward and giving him a quick peck on the forehead.  “I knew I could talk some sense into that pretty little head of yours.”  

Owen started to wonder if the constant ringing had driven him crazy after all.  Instead of shoving his friend away, he watched his cock form a steadily growing tent in his briefs as he fought the urge to lean in and press their lips together.  A thousand questions were racing through his mind, but Owen couldn’t ask any of them as he found it suddenly difficult to even speak in his friend’s presence.  The shredded blonde was normally brimming with confidence, especially around his friends, but that bravado was nowhere to be found as he stood and watched Parker’s eyes travel slowly up and down his exposed frame.  

“And you DID at least wear my favorites,” the big man said, his rough hands sliding down Owen’s trim sides to snap the elastic of the bright briefs.  The blonde stud gasped as his friend toyed with the tented underwear, his eyes going wide when he felt the other man’s strong fingers brushing against his churning balls as they slipped in through the stretched opening and tugged on the straining fabric.  “It’s so cute how excited you get,” Parker laughed, his voice dripping with condescension as he tapped a finger against the tip of Owen’s nose.  The broad stud pulled his hand free and took a step back, giving the panting blonde an expectant look.  “Alright, so I’m here...you don’t expect me to do all the work too, do you?”  

“Oh! Uh, no, sorry,” Owen stammered, his body on autopilot as he hurriedly reached out and grabbed the bottom of Parker’s shirt.  He slid it up and off the beefy hulk, his mouth watering at the sight of his friend’s slab of a chest and sturdy muscle gut.  Owen had always given Parker a hard time for not being as cut, but now the thirsty blonde couldn’t imagine the burly stud any other way.  His bulky build was powerful and masculine, making Owen’s chiseled body seem weak and feminine by comparison.  

The eager jock loved the sound of his friend’s satisfied sigh when he leaned in and began working his tongue down Parker’s thick neck and along his prominent pecs, the meaty paw on the back of his head guiding him lower and lower.  Owen slipped his hands into the other man’s shorts, tugging them down along with the boxer briefs underneath as he was pushed to his knees.  His friend’s fat cock slapped him in the face when it sprung free, and Owen ignored the voice screaming in his head, opting instead to run his tongue along the underside of the thick organ before swallowing nearly all six inches in a single gulp.  

“Fuuuuuuuuuck,” Parker sighed, grabbing the back of Owen’s head and holding it in place as he started pumping his hips.  It was a scenario Owen had been in hundreds of times, but always from Parker’s perspective.  He’d never once stopped to think about what it would be like to be the one on their knees, and he’d never imagined himself loving it so much.  He clung to his friend’s meaty cheeks, relishing the sensation of the wide beast gliding against his tongue as Parker slammed in and out of his mouth.  Owen knew he wasn’t blowing his friend as much as Parker was fucking his mouth, but as long as he got to bury his face in the beefy man’s lap he didn’t care.  “Fuckin’ mouth...is...still the...best pussy...in town…” Parker grunted, the demeaning statement making Owen shiver with delight.  He knew he should be mortified, but he was too focused on keeping his jaw relaxed and his lips tight.  “Maybe second best,” the smug hunk laughed, slipping his spit-slick rod free and batting it against Owen’s face.  He pulled his kneeling friend to his feet and spun him around, pushing him forward against the small table next to the door.  

“HHHuuuUUOOOOohhhhh!”  Owen’s usually smooth, deep voice came out as a cracking wail when Parker tugged the back of his briefs down and shoved a pair of fingers in his virgin hole.  Instead of feeling like he was being split open the gasping blonde took the stubby digits without issue, his vision going white with pleasure as they probed his insides. 

“Think we can make the neighbors complain again,” Parker asked with a grin, pulling the fingers free and quickly replacing them with his wide club.  

Owen’s mouth fell open, letting out a low, wordless moan that slowly grew into a piercing shriek of ecstasy.  He fell forward against the table, his legs threatening to give out as Parker clutched his hips, continually pulling him backwards onto the piledriver cock plowing in and out of his bouncing bubble.  He stared in dazed wonder at the phone that had started all of this, the receiver shaking in the cradle as the table slammed against the wall.  Owen knew the antique was somehow responsible for everything that was happening, that the days of ringing, the sound working itself to his very core, had set the stage for the impossible events that followed.  He was still coherent enough to recognize the irony of his circumstances, he just couldn’t do anything about them.  He didn’t even know if he wanted to.  The old Owen was horrified at the sound of his desperate moaning, but the new Owen was just having fun and feeling grateful to get a hunk like Parker fucking his brains out.  He wasn’t mortified at the sensation of the other man’s cock stuffing him to capacity or at the heavy balls slapping against his ass; he just wanted it to keep going.  

Owen barely noticed when the handset shook itself out of the cradle and fell onto the table.  It wasn’t until he heard his own voice coming out of the phone again that it caught his attention, but his fumbling hands couldn’t hang it up in time to cut off the terrifying new message.  

“Whatever, bro.  A girl doesn’t have tits like that without wanting to show ‘em off.  I don’t care what she says.  The bigger they are, the more they’re up for grabs.  They’re like a sign saying ‘come and get it’.”  

He felt the bouncing start as soon as the message stopped.  There was a tingling at his chest, and the next thing Owen knew his pecs had nearly tripled in size.  The now-heaping mounds were still solid with muscle, but they were impossibly large, swallowing most of his neck and shoulders while they obscured his view of anything below them.  His tiny nipples had inflated to match, and Owen was horrified at the solid nubs that now looked like small thumbs poking out of his gravity defying balloons.  

“Fuck...oh fuck...oh fuck...oh fuck…” Owen gasped, gawking at the bouncing muscle tits.  

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Parker said, sounding more annoyed than shocked as he reached around and grasped the massive mountains.  

“HHHHOOOUUUHHHOOO!”  Owen let out a wail that he was certain the entire building had to have heard, but he couldn’t help it.  Parker’s hands on his inflated chest were like live wires, and his gargantuan nipples were the connecting circuits.  There wasn’t room for fear or panic or embarrassment as Owen thrashed and howled in a frenzy, his untouched cock exploding all over the table.  

“You sure know how to make a guy feel talented,” Parker laughed, tweaking Owen’s solid nubs as he kept thrusting into the spasming jock.  

Owen didn’t even notice when Parker finally came inside him.  A steady stream of cum poured out of his battered hole when the other man pulled out, but all he could focus on was the blissful agony of his friend’s pinching fingers at his chest.  “Tha...that...was incredible,” the dazed blonde panted, his head feeling like it had been shattered into a thousand pieces.  Parker had literally fucked his brains out, and it was all Owen could do to string even a few thoughts together.  

“Have I ever let you down?” the brawny brunette asked, giving his friend’s perky bubble a rough slap.  He flashed a smug grin at Owen’s dazed expression as he pulled his discarded shorts and underwear back on.  “I told the guys all you needed was some dick.  That usually gets you back on track.”  

Owen could only give a numb nod, his eyes going wide at the way his jutting pecs completely obscured the view of anything below them.  They were so round and thick he couldn’t even bring his hands together if he held his arms out straight, having to bend them at the elbows like he was giving someone a hug to touch his fingers.  Though the idea of hugging someone, and their body brushing against the hypersensitive mounds, sent a shiver through him.  Just the air drifting against the sweaty mountains nearly made him gasp.  

“Speaking of the guys,” Parker said as he slipped back into his muscle shirt, “we’re supposed to meet Johnny at the gym, so how about you make yourself pretty so we can go?”  

The thought of leaving his apartment in such a state was horrifying, but again Owen found himself nodding and stumbling off to his bedroom, his balance thrown by the extra weight at his chest.  It forced him to adopt an arched-back, shoulders-drawn stance which only further accentuated the comically large pecs that seemed eager to bounce with each step.  

His terror only grew when he reached his room and saw what remained of his wardrobe, the familiar clothes he’d expected to find having vanished like his formerly proportional body.  Instead of boxers and boxer briefs he only found tiny bikinis and thongs, and Owen seemingly no longer owned a single pair of pants or a shirt that hadn’t been altered.  He had plenty of ridiculously tiny shorts that were smaller than the boxers he used to wear, and a few pairs of skin-tight leggings, but gone were his fitted jeans and chinos.  Likewise, his polos, button downs and t-shirts had all been swapped out for cut-off tank-tops, spaghetti strap muscle shirts, and paper thin t-shirts whose sleeves and lower halves had all been removed.  And where before he’d had a muted wardrobe of black, grey, and dark brown, now everything was dayglo bright, ensuring that he’d stand out no matter where he went.  

“Yo, we’re just going to the gym. You don’t need your makeup to be perfect or whatever,” Parker said, storming into the room when Owen hadn’t emerged after a few minutes.  He pulled open a drawer and tossed his friend a pair of tissue-thin, powder blue bikini briefs, grabbing a pair of hot pink running shorts that split up the sides all the way to his waist, and a sleeveless, lavender cut-off for a shirt.  Owen squirmed as he pulled the revealing outfit on, his cock throbbing the instant he slid the shirt over his shoulders.  It was barely long enough to cover his bulging shelf, and the now-neckless blonde blushed a deep shade of red at the huge nipples poking noticeably against the thin fabric.  If his bright clothing didn’t catch someone’s eye, his exposed abs, partially bare bubble, obviously twitching cock, or bouncing muscle tits were sure to do the job.  

Owen tried to resist, but he was back to being awed by Parker’s mere presence, unable to do anything other than follow along behind his friend and do as he was instructed.  He stepped into a pair of bright sneakers and stumbled down the hall, his bouncing chest causing his embarrassingly solid cock to be prominently displayed in the tiny shorts.  He was humiliated at the thought of walking around in public with his aching rod pointing the way, but as soon as they were on the sidewalk outside it was clear that all eyes were focused on Owen’s upper half.  

It was worse than the embarrassed blonde imagined.  He turned the heads of every man they passed, most of whom made no attempts at hiding their obvious, lustful staring.  Several went out of their way to brush against him, and a few even gave him a squeeze as they walked by.  When Owen gave Parker a pleading look, the towering brunette only shrugged.  

“What?  You can’t expect guys not to go for ‘em.  Don’t act like you’re not loving it...we both know better,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. 

Owen wanted to argue, but his friend was terrifyingly right.  With each stare and unsolicited groping, the top-heavy jock felt a thrill run through him.  The attention made him more giddy than embarrassed, and he had to force himself to hold onto the knowledge that he shouldn’t be enjoying the way random men ogled him.  He even caught himself batting his eyes and smiling bashfully, giving his pecs a teasing shake when he saw a man watching.  

It was his flirting back that finally got Parker’s attention.  “What do you think you’re doing?” the big man asked, his voice a low rumble.  “I like to take you out and show you off...that doesn’t mean you can be making eyes at other dudes.  Don’t forget who owns this,” he said, giving his friend’s ass a firm squeeze.  

“Sorry,” Owen said meekly, all the times he’d made a similar statement to whichever girl he was fucking at the time suddenly running through his head.  The smug stud had never been one for introspection, but Owen was beginning to worry just how deep this reality-warping rabbit hole would go.  It wasn’t that he never realized how poorly he was treating people; he just didn’t care.  All that mattered was that he got what he wanted, and now that he was getting it whether he wanted it or not, the handsome blonde was starting to regret his previous behavior.  As much as he knew he should pull away, he leaned into Parker when the other man threw an arm over his shoulder, trying not to think about what waited for him when they reached the gym.  It was one of Owen’s favorite places to check out women, and he didn’t look forward to experiencing things from his new perspective.  

Johnny’s arrogant smile told him it wouldn’t be easy.  The stocky, shirtless man waved as soon as they entered, his chiseled, proportional pecs sending a stab of both lust and jealousy through Owen as he stared at the furry slab.  He’d always given the shorter man a hard time for his hirsute, mediterranean looks, but now Johnny’s olive skin, plump rear and thick bulge made his mouth water.  

“‘Sup, man,” Johnny said, fist-bumping Parker.  “So how’d it go?  You get everything sorted out?” he asked, as if Owen wasn’t standing in front of him.  

“What’s it look like?”  Owen was actually glad he couldn’t see his tented shorts when Parker nodded down at them.  “You know how it goes.  Tell him he’s pretty and put a dick in him and he’s happy.  Isn’t that right,” Parker cooed, tousling Owen’s hair.  

“Uh-huh!” the blonde chirped, hating himself for it.  

“It’s so annoying when he gets all needy like that,” Johnny said, rolling his eyes.  He finally acknowledged Owen by reaching over and bouncing the tent in the busty jock’s shorts.  “But it’s all about playing the game, right?  That’s okay, babe, I already know how you can make it up to me,” he grinned.  Owen couldn’t believe that no one was reacting to the shorter man groping another man’s obviously hard cock in public, but the most anyone did was give the stunned blonde the same hungry stares he’d seen on the way over.  “Me and Parker are gonna go do some heavy lifting.  Why don’t you hit the treadmill, then bust out some squats and box jumps?”  

The old Owen was furious at Johnny for the condescending way he dictated his workout, but the new Owen just nodded and headed for the treadmills.  He knew exactly what was happening.  It was no coincidence that the exercises he’d been given were tailor made to show off his bouncing muscle tits.  He’d spent enough time staring at women while they did the same to know what kind of show he was about to put on.  Owen tried not to think about it as he started a light jog, his heaping pecs slamming up and down like he was being fucked all over again.  His already-aching cock responded the same, a warm, damp feeling starting to spread when the throbbing organ began to ooze.  He did his best to push it from his mind, a task that was made easy by the overwhelming sensations his unwanted growth sent rocketing through him.  The constant bouncing and rubbing against the lightning rod nubs made it impossible for him to move faster than a slow trot, but Owen knew the point wasn’t to work up a sweat.  

The same went when he made his way over to the squat rack and he felt his small shorts slip between his solid cheeks, exposing the perky mounds to the entire gym with each rep.  The box jumps were a combination of the two, accentuating both his impossible top and impressive bottom in equal measure.  The whole time, Owen’s stomach turned at the thought of how many people were watching, and at how many people could see his fat cock outlined in his soaked shorts.  But despite his humiliation, the warped jock could only smile cheerfully at the leering faces, chirping happily whenever Parker or Johnny would stop to check on him.  

Owen was so distracted by the constant surges rocking his athletic frame that he had no idea how long he’d been putting on his show when his friend’s finally said it was time to go.  “Dude, I fuckin’ love how wet he gets,” Johnny laughed, pointing to the soaked shorts that Owen could feel, but not see.  

Parker nodded, winking at the shorter man.  “Right?  Those tits are so hot right now you can do anything to ‘em when you get ‘em back home.”  

“That’s what I’m counting on,” the stocky jock said with a wry grin.  “You hear that, sweetheart?”  

Owen nodded excitedly, waving goodbye to Parker as they parted ways outside and Johnny walked him back to his apartment.  Though he stood several inches taller than the hairy little hunk, Owen felt just as small and insecure as he had with their bigger friend, barely able to speak in the other man’s presence.  He was captivated by Johnny’s square, stubbled jaw and bulldog face, and the way the stocky man’s arm hair prickled against his bare waist as he leaned into his friend’s embrace.  He could smell the pungent, musky aroma wafting off Johnny’s sweaty body like a starving man in search of food, the scent filling him with an equally intense desire.  By the time they were back in his apartment, Owen had nearly forgotten his embarrassing display at the gym, his thoughts focused solely on what was to come.  

“Oh!” he giggled when Johnny grabbed his shorts and roughly pulled them down before the door had even finished shutting, taking his underwear with them.  Instead of resisting, Owen eagerly stepped out of them and turned, letting out a hissing gasp when his friend’s stubby hands latched onto his cresting mounds.  He raised his arms at Johnny’s nod and squirmed out of the pointless shirt, dropping to his knees without needing to be told.  

“Uh-uh.  Mouth only,” Johnny grunted when Owen grabbed the waist of his shorts.  The kneeling blonde quickly leaned in, burying his handsome face against the burly little jock’s waist as his lips fumbled with the elastic.  

Far from being embarrassed, Owen was thrilled at the opportunity to savor the other man’s musky, manly aroma.  He loved how it felt to have Johnny’s long, wide cock and heavy balls rubbing against his face, and though he could have quickly stripped the other man, he took his time.  When the sweaty shorts and briefs were finally at his friend’s ankles he worked his tongue slowly up the meaty, hairy thigh and along the low, heavy balls before sucking Johnny’s twitching cock into his mouth.  Owen had always loved fucking right after a good workout, when the endorphins were still flowing freely, and as with everything else he was experiencing lately the addled blonde never imagined that he’d enjoy being the one with a sweaty dick in his mouth just as much.  

Owen didn’t have long to savor the salty taste.  As soon as Johnny was hard, the hairy jock pulled out and gave him a rough shove that sent the top-heavy jock sprawling.  With a nimble speed from years of wrestling Johnny was on top of him in a flash, making Owen squirm as he straddled him between his solid, hairy thighs.  The prone stud giggled again, loving how his friend’s plump cheeks felt resting on his stomach while Johnny began to knead his inflated chest.  

“Since Parker already gave that ass a workout, why don’t we put these to use instead,” Johnny said, squeezing Owen’s oversized nipples as he pushed his friend’s pecs together.  The gasping blonde screamed ecstatically and nearly bucked the other man off him when Johnny rolled his hips and wormed his cock between the muscled pillows.  He clutched his friend’s hairy cheeks as he squirmed, his stomach fluttering at the smug expression beaming down at him.  

While he howled and whimpered and grunted, the hairy stud was calm and collected.  Owen was still coherent enough to realize he was being tit fucked on the floor of his apartment, being driven wild by the beefy, hairy body he used to mock Johnny for, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  He knew he shouldn’t love the feeling of the other man’s hairy balls dragging across his torso, or love the sight of the glistening, bulbous head when it thrust towards his face, but he did.  He’d never felt anything like it.  His sizable cock was an afterthought as it erupted, its ability to bring him pleasure paling in comparison to his muscled melons.  

He couldn’t ignore Johnny’s cock so easily when it exploded.  The fat organ sent a shotgun blast of cum all over Owen’s face, coating every inch like it was a moisturizing mask.  The copious fluid dripped into his gaping mouth and down his throat, but his friend stopped him when Owen went to wipe it away.  

“Nope.  You came all over my back, so that stays until you clean me off,” Johnny said, giving Owen’s chest a final squeeze before climbing to his feet.  The sticky-faced jock loved the sight of his shorter friend towering over him, and the unique view of the other man’s girthy package before he stepped away and motioned for Owen to follow him to the bathroom.  The dazed blonde lurched upright, having to struggle against the new anchor that was his chest, but he eventually made it to his shower just as Johnny cranked it to life.  “Next time you can just clean this off with your tongue,” he said, looking in the mirror at the remains of his friend’s explosion coating his sticky, hairy back.  Owen nodded, but he wasn’t fully listening to what his friend was saying.  

Above the sound of the hissing shower, and louder than Johnny’s smug voice, he could hear a phone ringing.