Cheat Day (Patreon)

Michael stared at the door. There was still time to back out. To go back home and accuse Tom of cheating. Although Michael was assertive, tough even, he didn’t like confrontation. Not real, emotional confrontation. As soon as he saw the text he knew it wasn’t just another Grindr hookup. He and Tom decided very early on that sex and love were two very different things, and whatever they did to each other in the bedroom would only get better if they had inspiration from other encounters.

Still, looking at the door it felt like cheating. He had been pacing the apartment for minutes in a mix of emotions. Sadness, anger, jealousy, disbelief. He had opened all the hookup apps he had in an impulsive fit of desperately seeking a revenge fuck. A revenge fuck with someone else. It was only minutes later that he had found Jonathan, who appeared as eager as him, nearby, and with a matching profile. Gay bottom who needed a quick fuck.

Now in front of the door he wasn’t at all as sure anymore. Standing someone up wasn’t cool either. At the very least he should say sorry in person. He rang the door.

Almost instantly the door flung open and revealed a good looking guy a year older than Michael, according to his profile. “Hey, big dude”, he said and placed a long, sloppy kiss on Michael. There wasn’t really any size difference between the two. In fact, apart from their faces they looked pretty much alike. Two skinny guys in their late twenties with a few days' shade, similar haircuts, and tattooed sleeves that looked the same if you squinted a lot. They even dressed alike, tight jeans and casual, high quality untucked shirt, rolled sleeves, and not buttoned all the way up. ”You’re really gonna like this.” he said when he finally peeled away from the kiss. Michael could nothing but agree.

“I’m Michael. I guess I should ask if you are Jonathan, but with that greeting I would be very disappointed if I had to leave.” Jonathan smiled a wry smile. “Trust me, you are not leaving without my permission”, and he placed another slobbering kiss.

“I like your hair. I guess you need something practical with all the gym time you clock. Fits with the whole dumb jock image you’re going for.” If Michael had a dumb look, it was because he had no idea what Jonathan was talking about. He hadn’t been in a gym for months. He could live off donuts and coffee and still not put on any weight, try as he might. Jonathan’s hands were all over him, while he kicked the door shut. “I bet it takes a lot to keep such a muscled body. I bet you meal prep twice a week, eat five times a day, and stay off all processed food, all sweets, all alcohol. That takes some serious dedication.” Oh! Michael could see what he was doing. He was setting up a role playing scene.

“Lifting is life, bro” Michael tried.
“There’s my fucking gym bro. It’s all about the gains and looking good naked. That’s why you shave everything below the nose, right? To make the muscles show better.”

Jonathan smiled and kissed Michael deep again, while his hands were all up inside Michael’s shirt. Michael had never shaved anything except for his face, and recently he hadn’t bother with anything but running a trimmer a few times a week.

“It’s time for your post-workout shake, right? Best time while you still have that after sweat glow. I have it ready in the kitchen for you.”
“Thanks. Sure is, bro”

Michael couldn’t remember when he last had one. Years ago at least. It was chalky and not at all something he would ever ask for again. He followed Jonathan into the kitchen, and as soon as he entered Jonathan threw a plastic shaker at him. “Catch! Chug it! You’ll love it.”

It tasted like vanilla. Strangely he did like it. Had he even had lunch, or was that forgotten too in the whole text message and cheating business? Something about Jonathan made both his dick and thinking really hard. No other bottom he’d met had ever been so assertive, so in charge. But bottom and sub were different things, and he couldn’t deny that it made him want to fuck his brains out all the more. So when Jonathan led him to the bedroom he was actually worried the amount of pre-cum would show.

“Let’s stop cosplaying and get this shit off you!” Jonathan said and ripped Michael’s shirt open, sending buttons in all directions.
“What the hell, bro?”
“You know anything with buttons is too inconvenient. You never use them.”

He unbuttoned Michael’s jeans for him. “Get naked and get in bed.” Confused he did as he was told and kicked off his shoes and slid down his jeans and boxers. Not only was his dick and balls slippery and shiny with pre-cum, but all of his body was glistening of sweat in the dim bedroom light. As he stepped out of the pile of clothes he realized he was completely smooth. Not a single hair as far as he could see. It made sense, since he was playing jock and it would make the muscles really pop, but something about it wasn’t right. He reached for the socks, but Jonathan stopped him. “That’s enough! On your back!”

Michael might be playing a dumb jock, but he knew something was terribly wrong. Very slowly he sat down on the bed. His arms looked pathetic. The rest of the body too. But that was just disappointing, not really something to be alarmed about. Jonathan stepped forward, grabbed both his legs, and raised them from the floor, forcing Michael on his back.

“Let’s fuck you into shape, shall we?” he said and thrust his dick into Michael’s ass. Michael wasn’t prepared at all for the onslaught and sounded an indiscreet yelp. His brain was going through questions, looking for the right one. Why was he lying down while Jonathan was standing up? And again, a second thrust. Why was he almost naked while Jonathan had only unbuttoned his jeans? A loud belch escaped from him. He could feel his stomach churning. Why was he the one getting fucked and not Jonathan? As the third thrust hit he could feel an ache reverberate through his whole body.

“Tom likes being the big spoon, doesn’t he? He likes that while you are the one bossing him around, he is the bigger one, the one that protects you while you sleep, even though he doesn’t have much muscles.” Wave after wave of pain was flooding Michael. He felt like he really ought to know who Tom was. It was somehow important. Jonathan was fucking him with, deep, slow strokes. “He doesn’t like big, bulky muscles. They gross him out. The upper body is the worst.” Michael wanted the pain to stop. It felt like he was being stretched on a rack. “Big, bouncy pecs that puff up and out the chest. Big delts that make the shoulders look wide and clumsy. Huge traps that misshape the top of the shirt. And worst of all, big, bulging biceps that strains the fabric of any normal sleeve, and risk tearing it if you bend your arm. He hates it all.” The pain was ever shifting for Michael. The bone crushing pain mutated into a burning sensation. He let out another long burp. What was Jonathan talking about again? It was so hard to concentrate.

“And legs! Big, thick thighs that make it impossible for you walk properly and push your junk out, so it looks obscene whatever you do. Tom would be disgusted. The massive body and legs make your average dick look small. Your massive balls just make it look even smaller. And veins. Big irregular veins snaking up and down the arms and legs, like an erect dick.” Jonathan was pumping furiously now, getting close to climax. Michael’s head was spinning. He was just happy the pain had subdued into a tingling sensation. Then Jonathan just stopped and there was a second of calm where Michael couldn’t think of anything. Then they both exploded, Michael pumping squirts after squirts of warm cum up in the air, while at the same time he could feel Jonathan emptying his load inside of him. Both of them appeared to have limitless supply. Michael felt something else as well, how the body was shifting. It felt like he was moving around, or like the sheet was being pulled from under him.

No, he wasn’t moving. He was growing, he realized. It was as if Jonathan was inflating a balloon with his cum. He himself was emptied his balls all over himself in an uneven smattering of sticky frosting. He realized everything Jonathan had said about Tom was true. He was rapidly turning into the kind of body Tom would laugh at. Mock. Be repulsed by, even. “Please. Please stop. Whatever reason you think you have for doing this, it’s wrong. This is all wrong.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow while shooting a last few shots of cum into Michael.

Jonathan withdrew and stepped back a step, panting and clearly exhausted. “Yeah, this is wrong.” With his dick still out of the jeans he climbed into the bed next to Michael. Michael wanted to shrug back, to get away, but his body just laid there like a sack of whey. Without hesitation Jonathan placed his hands around Michael’s throat and started to squeeze. “No! Please! Don’t kill me! Please, stop doing this.” The pitch of his voice was slowly going up, until the last two words when it crashed down octaves. “Please, just stop”

Michael’s voice was deep, touching on African American, but still somehow youthful. “That’s better. Now, sit up beef boy, I want to show you something.” Jonathan slapped Michael on the shoulder with a wet and meaty thud, got up from the bed, and went to the wardrobes along the wall. Michael sat up in the bed, noting that he was not only more muscled than anyone he knew, but quite a bit taller than before. Jonathan opened one of the wardrobes and revealed a full length mirror mounted on the inside of the door.

Michael didn’t see himself in the mirror. Somehow the sum of the parts made a bigger impact than just seeing and feeling them on their own. He was surprised how young his face looked. Barely twenty, he would guess. It looked utterly wrong on top of that massive body. Young, dumb, and above all immature looking. Like he went to gym instead of high school and juiced his way to his twenties. If you wanted to lab grow the antithesis to what turned Tom on, this would be it. “Why are you doing this?”

Jonathan’s face twisted into a snarl of contempt, took a step back and grabbed Michael’s head between his hands, pressed the palms into his cheeks until the lips parted and forcefully spit a glob of saliva into Michael’s mouth. He then leaned down and made another long kiss. “I’ll tell you, Brad, why I’m fucking doing this.”

Brad? Michael was sitting, slacked jawed looking up at Jonathan. He glanced down, seeing his reflection in the mirror behind Jonathan. For a short moment he expected to see Michael in the mirror, but of course he didn’t. He’s Brad. Anyone can see that. Jonathan stepped in, replacing his view of the mirror with Jonathan’s erect dick.

“Suck it! You love sucking dick more than anything, you cum guzzling bottom slut! You worthless piece of shit. You were never good enough for Tom. He’s supposed to be with me! You never appreciated the way he looked at you, the way he changed to accommodate you, to be part of your life. You’re were too fucking stupid to get that! Now you are too dumb to read a newspaper. Too stupid for any joke that isn’t practical, like pantsing someone in the weight room or squirting bronzer in their butt crack.”

Jonathan still held Brad’s head with both hands, moving it back and forth to forcefully pump his dick down Brad’s throat. Brad wanted to help, to please, but there was very little he could do, besides making gagging noises.

“You don’t remember what Tom looks like anymore. You can’t remember where you met, where you used to eat together, where you lived together. You don’t even think of love or relationships anymore. You can’t plan more than to your next meal prep, fucking loser. Your life only revolves around gym, sports and sex. Those are the only things that matter, the only things you plan for, the only things you talk about.”

Jonathan let go of Brad’s head, and was just standing there panting, dick in mouth. Brad could finally start to take an active part, letting his tongue play over Jonathan’s cock head. He started to slowly suck the dick in long, deliberate motions. Jonathan collected himself, somehow relieved to have revealed his feelings for Tom, and suddenly almost surprised to be in the middle of getting a blowjob. He sounded much calmer as he continued.

“You don’t like how you look naked. You think your dick looks ridiculous and tiny next to your giant balls, so you prefer to always be fucked wearing a jockstrap.  You try to keep other clothes on, like you are wearing socks now, to take attention away from the jockstrap. You try to have sex where and how being partially clothed makes sense. On the bench in the gym. In an alley outside. In the bleachers. In the dugout. And your massive balls are pumping so much hormones into you, you’re horny almost as soon as you’ve cum. You’ll swallow so much jizz you put it in your weekly macros.”

Brad was fully erect again, with a dollop of viscous pre-cum visible at the tip of his cock head. Jonathan was resting a hand on his head.

“Your body is never good enough. There is always more lifting, tanning, running, shaving, bulking or cutting to be done. You always want to look ready for gym, showing off what you got. Wearing bright clothes that makes people look. You want to be noticed, the center of every room you go into. How else can you get the attention to get everyone to fuck you? Loud, happy, clueless, obnoxious.”

With no warning Jonathan came again. Only a few pumps this time. Brad could feel something warm inside of him, but unlike a coffee or cocoa, it quickly spread out into all his body, and up his neck into his head. He let himself fall backward into the bed, leaving a trailing string of cum and saliva between his lips and Jonathan’s dick, before it broke. His head was spinning. What was he doing here again? He was having sex with someone, wasn’t he? But he was still so fucking horny. In the corner of his eye he watched the guy leave the bedroom. He grabbed his slippery dick and started to masturbate. He needed to cum so badly.

The guy came back into the room with a pile of clothes, and threw it on his sweaty and cum sticky stomach. Brad felt caught and embarrassed and put both hands over his dick.

“Here, get dressed.”
“Bro, you need to like fuck me.”
“Sorry dude. Not my type.”
“Not cool bro. I sucked you.”
“Get dressed and I’ll help you find someone.”
“How you’ll do that, bro?”
“I’ll set up some fuck app accounts for you. I’ll even take pics and write a bio for you.”
“Dope. Hurry tho. I’m so fucking horny.”

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