Gym Showers Humiliation

I stepped off the stair-climber, quads burning, my shirt drenched, feeling wrung-out. The man-watching had been awesome, but left me feeling horny and exhausted at the same time.

The crowd at the gym had thinned, and the opportunities for staring at straining spandex had diminished; fuck.

Hope and boners spring eternal, and I was imagining having the balls to ask to suck some dick in the shower room. Not that that had ever happened or was gonna happen.

I thought I was looking pretty good, catching little glimpses of myself in the mirror as I strutted my way to the locker room to piss and sluice off the workout. I was considering sitting in a stall next to someone and stroking one out into toilet paper to ease the horny; my little dick started getting hard.

That’s when I caught sight of him. It froze me in the doorway into the men’s locker room like a deer.

He was massive – maybe six and a half feet. He had wavy hair that was brushing his bare…and fucking massive shoulders. Huge traps that lunged upward, and joined his neck inches above its base. Massive lats that fanned out as he reached around to massage his lower back with one hand. Big boulder biceps bulging around the triceps I was staring at, making their hollow diamond shape with his every move.

God, his ass was gorgeous in some loose boxer shorts – huge and high and tight. And his quads bulged as he stepped from big foot to big hairy foot.

And his face sported a big bulge of a beard and pale blue eyes that were fucking staring right at me, and I’m not sure how long they had been doing that as I raped him with my eyes.

He arched one slender brown-blond eyebrow. “Sup,” he said, with a low rumble of menace in his huge chest as he turned toward me. He had a full furry belly and big, meaty, hairy pecs. He rolled his shoulders and pinned me there like a fucking worm with his eyes.

I gulped as I felt my little dick get hard in my shorts. “Hey, sir,” I stammered, putting my towel between my hands so it dangled in front of my straining cock.

Fuck fuck fuck. My dick was aching, and my stomach felt like ice water and I couldn’t look away from this norse fucking god strutting his shit in the locker room.

He glared at me for a long minute, taking obvious note of me covering my little boner with my towel, and as he took in that I was frozen there in the doorway by his gaze, a mean little smile greased his lips.

He held me with the stance of his big fucking muscle body, and he turned from side to side, looking around the locker room casually.

Something big and hypnotic swayed back and forth like a fat snake in his boxers. I was salivating, and my hands were clammy. I couldn’t force myself to fucking retreat or head to a locker, I just watched his cock pendulum back and forth as he checked the gym and then stretched in either direction, his back popping.

In a low voice, he growled, “Don’t stand there all day blocking the fucking exit, BOY.”

My cock throbbed hard enough to cut glass and I could feel my little dickhead leaking into my fucking shorts. I swore I could see his cock stretching out like a python under the too-large boxers.

He clapped his locker closed loudly, and pulled his towel across the big slopes of his back muscles. It broke the spell. I headed for my locker – which was right near his, because…that’s how gyms work when you’re a bitch.

He shook his head and I’m sure I heard him mutter “faggot” as he walked away – each ass cheek flexing and unflexing like a pair of moons under his shorts. I was so aroused and scared in equal parts it felt like I was gonna pass out.

I changed out of my sopping – and now cold – workout shirt and shorts. I sat on the bench for a long couple of minutes thinking about vaginas and nuns to get my hardon to go down. No sign of anyone else in the gym. No return of Thor, with his Thunder Hammer swinging under his boxers. fuck so hard to get my hard to go down thinking shit like that.

Wrapped my towel around my waist, sucked in my belly, checked myself out in the mirror: decent. Boner slowly starting to go down.

There were 2 showers running in the shower room.

There were a couple of handicapped stalls at the entry of the shower room and then after a turn an open shower area.

I stepped into the open area and stopped. It was steamy, and there he was in the middle of the space with his back to the entry. He had a small towel and was standing with his tree trunk legs spread, soaping his ass, slowly.

So much for not having a boner. I mean, I’d never get to fuck anything like this god with my little faggot cock, but Jesus!

When he dragged he cloth down between his legs, and I saw his big bull nuts slap to one side, I said “Holy shit.” It echoed way louder than I meant it to – especially in that space.

Sliding the white soapy cloth through his crack, his big quads bulging, his long hair clinging to his bull neck, he glanced back at me. He pinned me there…again… with his eyes, which seemed darker…and meaner than they had in the locker room.

He held my gaze as he turned to the side, dropping the soapy towel. Water ran down the valleys of his back, dripping off his soapy ass and running down his legs. The water struck his right pec and beaded his beard….

And then his cock came into view. It leaned above his big nuts, just hard enough to be lifted off them in an arc, but heavy enough to have a deep curve down. It was so thick! My mouth flooded with eager spit. It was already like 8 fucking inches long and hadn’t stood all the way up. It was one of those thick ones with almost no veins showing, and a big bulge of a tube along the bottom. The head was pink and cut and a fat mushroom on top of the shaft, already blushing red.

I gulped.

He growled, his low voice not echoing over the shower sounds so someone standing behind me in the stalls wouldn’t hear, but his voice still surrounded me. “Seeing something you like, FAGGOT?”

I looked back up at him from his cock. He had a sneer on his face. I felt myself start to leak under my towel. “I…uh…” I couldn’t look away, even as I saw him reach one of his big paws down and pull his balls away from his shaft. I looked back down as he wrapped his big hand that barely fit around the straightening, thick dick and slowly stroked the full length. All the way up, rolling his foreskin over the head, and then slowly back down. The head turned red. I could see the tube on the bottom of his dick fully engorged now. Water dripped off his fat balls between his bulging quads. I wanted to lick everything.

He growled again in that low voice that made my stomach do cold flips, “Get over here, and get on your knees like a good fucking faggot. Make yourself useful at fucking least.”

I blinked. I couldn’t believe he was saying this to me. I watched his biceps bulge and he went for another stroke on the fat length of his shaft. It got harder and harder as I watched, stretching out another inch or so, and standing up so it was a straight line, perpendicular to his body, perfectly rigid, big balls swaying hypnotically underneath.

“Anytime now, bitch,” he growled.

I started. I lurched forward. My towel had come partly undone. I ended up slipping, and sprawling on the tile in front of him, my ass exposed, my face next to one of his big feet.

He chuckled in a way that made my butthole clench. “Yeah, that seems about right.”

He pushed his wet foot close to my face. “Kiss it,” I could feel the shower water soaking my towel, and running down his muscles, and streaming off the end of his cock onto my back.

I reached forward to kiss the top of his foot. He slid his food forward and his big toe slid into my mouth. “Suck it,” he hissed.

I wrapped my lips around the thickness of his big toe. A taste of funk and some soap. The second toe pushed in past my lips, thinner, making the whole the width of what I thought of as a “normal dick” – bigger than mine, but a nice mouthful. I sucked slow and hard up the length of his toes, then pushed back down like I’d do to the head of a cock with foreskin. His big paw went back to his dick and the water moving over me changed. For a long minute, I laid on the warm, wet tile, sucking his toes in my mouth, working them with my tongue. I thought any second I’d feel his hot cum hit my ass, my back, my hair.

Abruptly, he pulled his toes out of my mouth. I realized I was grinding the towel with my cock, “You like sucking my feet, you fucking little pervert,” he growled at me. For some reason I thought he was going to kick me. I just laid there, staring at his veiny bulging calves.

slap.. slapslap went a meaty sound as he chuckled. I finally looked up to see his cock – now fully hard – he was holding it by the base and slapping the long, straight column of it against his other hand. The thick meat was hitting the water and springing back up, strike by slow strike. The shaft was pale white and the head was a thick red that made my mouth water. I was imagining what the weightlifting supplements would make his sperm taste like.

“Get…” slap “ on your “ slap “ fucking “ slap “knees” slap “BITCH” he growled low and menacing.

I gripped his huge calves to steady myself and pulled myself forward out of my towel. I was on my knees and as I straightened up I hit his calloused hand holding his cock with my head.

I leaned back and looked at him. He leered down at me.

“You would do anything I fucking told you to,” slap went the enormous fat bulging clean white cock.

I was losing every ounce of my will, every vestige of self-respect, any ergs I had of self-determination. “Yeah,” I whispered.

“It’s YES, SIR, faggot”, he growled.

“YES SIR”, I answered, my voice cracking.

“Ass or cock?” He said, turning a little, flexing his massive teardrop butt cheeks.

“… wuh?” I barely knew who I was much less what was happening?

“ASS,” he flexed his massive boulder ass muscles, cleaving a deep cleft between them that my tiny dick strained too long for, “or COCK” he slapped his huge hard member like a white police baton against his hand. It was starting to get even harder, pointing at the sky.

“If you don’t answer me I swear I’m going to beat the life out of you, bitch,” he growled and I knew he meant it. I… I licked my lips. I looked at his sculpted god body. He couldn’t. I couldn’t.

“I will know if you’re lying and I will fuck you up,” he said, with a weird gentleness in the threat of violence.

“Cock then ass?” I squeaked like the faggot I was.

“Good answer, bitch!” He said, grabbing my hair and pulling me onto his massive dick.

Wait, what did that mean?

I swallowed his cock with ease, practiced, fucking cocksucker that I am taking the massive width and length deep into my throat and massaging them without thought, without question, without hope of anything, in spit of the beating I’d probably get after his which would not be the first.

He groaned and leaned his head back and … released my head.

I brought both hands up. I stroked the length of his cock with my throat, tongue, lips, left hand, right hand in that order. He groaned and I could taste his precum that was bitter and tasted a little like turmeric.

Again and again I bobbed my head, and worked hands, lips, tongue, throat on the glorious and perfect length of his cock. His cock head throbbed harder and harder with each pass. He was fucking ready to bur-

He pushed me back against the edge of the shower stall and I lost my balance. I smacked my head and caught myself, seeing stars. I braced for more violence, which sometimes happens with straight boys about to cum / having just cum.

None came.

“GET THE FUCK ON WITH IT, BITCH,” his voice pulled my eyelids open.

He had turned around.

The Shower water was running down a god’s shoulders, back muscles, the gorgeous sculpted mounds of his ass.

He brought one hand back and pulled the muscle of his right butt cheek aside. A dusting of hair between the godlike boulders. The wink of a starfish.

Did he just wink his hole at me? Did this almost-seven-fucking-foot-tall gym god just Kegel his butthole to entice my little dick inside?

Well if I was gonna get beaten up, this was Fucking Worth It.

I scrambled to my feet, nearly slipping in his fucking Fabio conditioner.

I grabbed his hips, dug my fingers into his cum gutters. He didn’t deck me.

I hawked up a loogie into my right hand, and smeared it on the head of my cock, mixing with the half gallon of precum I’d been dripping in the last while.

I took my slick hand, looking up at him and applied it to his hole, to the fuckhole of this giant fucking stud.

He moaned and pushed his ass back on me.

WHO WAS THE BITCH NOW? I thought very quietly so I didn’t get murdered in a gym shower.

My cock was so hard I was afraid to touch him.

Did he just fucking moan as I used a finger to work my precum and spit inside of him?

I knew not to ask questions or get a condom or real lube or… I knew suddenly he wanted it to hurt a little bit, so I didn’t spit again.

I inched closer and wrapped my hands in his cum gutters again, pulling him close.

“Nggggg….” He groaned as I rubbed little cock along his hole. He bent over. He pushed back, trying to get his hole around my little cock.

I was frantically wishing I had a video camera, a friend, a surveillance photo, something to prove later this wasn’t a dream.

He hunched his ass down and then up, clenching his butt cheeks to hold my hard little upward-pointing cock in a fucking vice. Around his side, I saw a huge string of precum drop from his massive straight cock to the floor. My own starfish clenched, wishing I could get fucked by him. But I had opened my big fucking mouth…

He pushed back, and my cock vanished between his cheeks, and plunged fully inside him.

He bent over to take all of it, every last fucking centimeter.

“NNNNG!” He groaned like I was the one with the 10 inch horescock. My cock bucked an pulsed. I wouldn’t fuck him long no matter what. My balls were jockeying for position with my Adam’s apple. FUCK!

I thought about nuns, vaginas, infections… it didn’t matter.

He put his eyes against his forearm and moaned in a slightly high-pitched voice, pushing himself against me.

This fucking norse god needed a little-dicked fucking faggot to fuck him.

My hands were already on his hips. Looking hard at the side of his face I pulled almost all the way out of the warm fucking clenching heaven of his hole, I waited a second.

“…NN!” He moaned, high pitched, needing more cock.

WHO IS THE FAGGOT NOW!? I thought super loudly.

I slammed my cock home. It felt bigger already.

I pulled back. I slammed home again.

He groaned. More precum drained from his massive penis, hitting the floor in strings as the hot water coursed over us.

I pulled back, paused, pulled my aching cock head all the way out of him.

His head whipped around to face me, need and rage fighting in his face.

As soon as I saw it, I slammed home again, pushing with my cardio hips and pulling with my PX-90 arms for all I was worth.

His face became an “O” of revelation.

SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM I pounded him as hard as I possibly could. No slapping, my balls were already inside my tight little abdomen.

“OH, GAWD, you fucking FAG what are yOU DOoo… gaaaahhhhhhh,” I reached around and squeezed his balls like a mother fucker, this giant asshole.

I came. Volley after volley after volley shot up this muscle god’s asshole.

He came. Volley after volley after volley hit him in the beard, slapped the shower wall, hit the shower wall, slapped the floor, drizzled out.

His muscles were relaxing as I pulled out and smacked his ass as hard as I possibly could.

“Next time you want a fucking faggot in your hole, ask nice, BITCH,” I said, as my hand print turned red on his giant ass.

He said something.

“What was that, bitch?” I said, my cock still as hard as fucking adamantium.

“…yes… SIR…” he grumbled, his cock arcing back up toward hard again….

In the Gym.. a faggot is humiliated but…

I stepped off the stair-climber, quads burning, my shirt drenched, feeling wrung-out. The man-watching had been awesome, but left me feeling horny and exhausted at the same time.

The crowd at the gym had thinned, and the opportunities for staring at straining spandex had diminished; fuck.

Hope and boners spring eternal, and I was imagining having the balls to ask to suck some dick in the shower room. Not that that had ever happened or was gonna happen.

I thought I was looking pretty good, catching little glimpses of myself in the mirror as I strutted my way to the locker room to piss and sluice off the workout. I was considering sitting in a stall next to someone and stroking one out into toilet paper to ease the horny; my little dick started getting hard.

That’s when I caught sight of him. It froze me in the doorway into the men’s locker room like a deer.

He was massive – maybe six and a half feet. He had wavy hair that was brushing his bare…and fucking massive shoulders. Huge traps that lunged upward, and joined his neck inches above its base. Massive lats that fanned out as he reached around to massage his lower back with one hand. Big boulder biceps bulging around the triceps I was staring at, making their hollow diamond shape with his every move.

God, his ass was gorgeous in some loose boxer shorts – huge and high and tight. And his quads bulged as he stepped from big foot to big hairy foot.

And his face sported a big bulge of a beard and pale blue eyes that were fucking staring right at me, and I’m not sure how long they had been doing that as I raped him with my eyes.

He arched one slender brown-blond eyebrow. “Sup,” he said, with a low rumble of menace in his huge chest as he turned toward me. He had a full furry belly and big, meaty, hairy pecs. He rolled his shoulders and pinned me there like a fucking worm with his eyes.

I gulped as I felt my little dick get hard in my shorts. “Hey, sir,” I stammered, putting my towel between my hands so it dangled in front of my straining cock.

Fuck fuck fuck. My dick was aching, and my stomach felt like ice water and I couldn’t look away from this norse fucking god strutting his shit in the locker room.

He glared at me for a long minute, taking obvious note of me covering my little boner with my towel, and as he took in that I was frozen there in the doorway by his gaze, a mean little smile greased his lips.

He held me with the stance of his big fucking muscle body, and he turned from side to side, looking around the locker room casually.

Something big and hypnotic swayed back and forth like a fat snake in his boxers. I was salivating, and my hands were clammy. I couldn’t force myself to fucking retreat or head to a locker, I just watched his cock pendulum back and forth as he checked the gym and then stretched in either direction, his back popping.

In a low voice, he growled, “Don’t stand there all day blocking the fucking exit, BOY.”

My cock throbbed hard enough to cut glass and I could feel my little dickhead leaking into my fucking shorts. I swore I could see his cock stretching out like a python under the too-large boxers.

He clapped his locker closed loudly, and pulled his towel across the big slopes of his back muscles. It broke the spell. I headed for my locker – which was right near his, because…that’s how gyms work when you’re a bitch.

He shook his head and I’m sure I heard him mutter “faggot” as he walked away – each ass cheek flexing and unflexing like a pair of moons under his shorts. I was so aroused and scared in equal parts it felt like I was gonna pass out.

I changed out of my sopping – and now cold – workout shirt and shorts. I sat on the bench for a long couple of minutes thinking about vaginas and nuns to get my hardon to go down. No sign of anyone else in the gym. No return of Thor, with his Thunder Hammer swinging under his boxers. fuck so hard to get my hard to go down thinking shit like that.

Wrapped my towel around my waist, sucked in my belly, checked myself out in the mirror: decent. Boner slowly starting to go down.

There were 2 showers running in the shower room.

There were a couple of handicapped stalls at the entry of the shower room and then after a turn an open shower area.

I stepped into the open area and stopped. It was steamy, and there he was in the middle of the space with his back to the entry. He had a small towel and was standing with his tree trunk legs spread, soaping his ass, slowly.

So much for not having a boner. I mean, I’d never get to fuck anything like this god with my little faggot cock, but Jesus!

When he dragged he cloth down between his legs, and I saw his big bull nuts slap to one side, I said “Holy shit.” It echoed way louder than I meant it to – especially in that space.

Sliding the white soapy cloth through his crack, his big quads bulging, his long hair clinging to his bull neck, he glanced back at me. He pinned me there…again… with his eyes, which seemed darker…and meaner than they had in the locker room.

He held my gaze as he turned to the side, dropping the soapy towel. Water ran down the valleys of his back, dripping off his soapy ass and running down his legs. The water struck his right pec and beaded his beard….

And then his cock came into view. It leaned above his big nuts, just hard enough to be lifted off them in an arc, but heavy enough to have a deep curve down. It was so thick! My mouth flooded with eager spit. It was already like 8 fucking inches long and hadn’t stood all the way up. It was one of those thick ones with almost no veins showing, and a big bulge of a tube along the bottom. The head was pink and cut and a fat mushroom on top of the shaft, already blushing red.

I gulped.

He growled, his low voice not echoing over the shower sounds so someone standing behind me in the stalls wouldn’t hear, but his voice still surrounded me. “Seeing something you like, FAGGOT?”

I looked back up at him from his cock. He had a sneer on his face. I felt myself start to leak under my towel. “I…uh…” I couldn’t look away, even as I saw him reach one of his big paws down and pull his balls away from his shaft. I looked back down as he wrapped his big hand that barely fit around the straightening, thick dick and slowly stroked the full length. All the way up, rolling his foreskin over the head, and then slowly back down. The head turned red. I could see the tube on the bottom of his dick fully engorged now. Water dripped off his fat balls between his bulging quads. I wanted to lick everything.

He growled again in that low voice that made my stomach do cold flips, “Get over here, and get on your knees like a good fucking faggot. Make yourself useful at fucking least.”

I blinked. I couldn’t believe he was saying this to me. I watched his biceps bulge and he went for another stroke on the fat length of his shaft. It got harder and harder as I watched, stretching out another inch or so, and standing up so it was a straight line, perpendicular to his body, perfectly rigid, big balls swaying hypnotically underneath.

“Anytime now, bitch,” he growled.

I started. I lurched forward. My towel had come partly undone. I ended up slipping, and sprawling on the tile in front of him, my ass exposed, my face next to one of his big feet.

He chuckled in a way that made my butthole clench. “Yeah, that seems about right.”

He pushed his wet foot close to my face. “Kiss it,” I could feel the shower water soaking my towel, and running down his muscles, and streaming off the end of his cock onto my back.

I reached forward to kiss the top of his foot. He slid his food forward and his big toe slid into my mouth. “Suck it,” he hissed.

I wrapped my lips around the thickness of his big toe. A taste of funk and some soap. The second toe pushed in past my lips, thinner, making the whole the width of what I thought of as a “normal dick” – bigger than mine, but a nice mouthful. I sucked slow and hard up the length of his toes, then pushed back down like I’d do to the head of a cock with foreskin. His big paw went back to his dick and the water moving over me changed. For a long minute, I laid on the warm, wet tile, sucking his toes in my mouth, working them with my tongue. I thought any second I’d feel his hot cum hit my ass, my back, my hair.

Abruptly, he pulled his toes out of my mouth. I realized I was grinding the towel with my cock, “You like sucking my feet, you fucking little pervert,” he growled at me. For some reason I thought he was going to kick me. I just laid there, staring at his veiny bulging calves.

slap.. slapslap went a meaty sound as he chuckled. I finally looked up to see his cock – now fully hard – he was holding it by the base and slapping the long, straight column of it against his other hand. The thick meat was hitting the water and springing back up, strike by slow strike. The shaft was pale white and the head was a thick red that made my mouth water. I was imagining what the weightlifting supplements would make his sperm taste like.

“Get…” slap “ on your “ slap “ fucking “ slap “knees” slap “BITCH” he growled low and menacing.

I gripped his huge calves to steady myself and pulled myself forward out of my towel. I was on my knees and as I straightened up I hit his calloused hand holding his cock with my head.

I leaned back and looked at him. He leered down at me.

“You would do anything I fucking told you to,” slap went the enormous fat bulging clean white cock.

I was losing every ounce of my will, every vestige of self-respect, any ergs I had of self-determination. “Yeah,” I whispered.

“It’s YES, SIR, faggot”, he growled.

“YES SIR”, I answered, my voice cracking.

“Ass or cock?” He said, turning a little, flexing his massive teardrop butt cheeks.

“… wuh?” I barely knew who I was much less what was happening?

“ASS,” he flexed his massive boulder ass muscles, cleaving a deep cleft between them that my tiny dick strained too long for, “or COCK” he slapped his huge hard member like a white police baton against his hand. It was starting to get even harder, pointing at the sky.

“If you don’t answer me I swear I’m going to beat the life out of you, bitch,” he growled and I knew he meant it. I… I licked my lips. I looked at his sculpted god body. He couldn’t. I couldn’t.

“I will know if you’re lying and I will fuck you up,” he said, with a weird gentleness in the threat of violence.

“Cock then ass?” I squeaked like the faggot I was.

“Good answer, bitch!” He said, grabbing my hair and pulling me onto his massive dick.

Wait, what did that mean?

I swallowed his cock with ease, practiced, fucking cocksucker that I am taking the massive width and length deep into my throat and massaging them without thought, without question, without hope of anything, in spit of the beating I’d probably get after his which would not be the first.

He groaned and leaned his head back and … released my head.

I brought both hands up. I stroked the length of his cock with my throat, tongue, lips, left hand, right hand in that order. He groaned and I could taste his precum that was bitter and tasted a little like turmeric.

Again and again I bobbed my head, and worked hands, lips, tongue, throat on the glorious and perfect length of his cock. His cock head throbbed harder and harder with each pass. He was fucking ready to bur-

He pushed me back against the edge of the shower stall and I lost my balance. I smacked my head and caught myself, seeing stars. I braced for more violence, which sometimes happens with straight boys about to cum / having just cum.

None came.

“GET THE FUCK ON WITH IT, BITCH,” his voice pulled my eyelids open.

He had turned around.

The Shower water was running down a god’s shoulders, back muscles, the gorgeous sculpted mounds of his ass.

He brought one hand back and pulled the muscle of his right butt cheek aside. A dusting of hair between the godlike boulders. The wink of a starfish.

Did he just wink his hole at me? Did this almost-seven-fucking-foot-tall gym god just Kegel his butthole to entice my little dick inside?

Well if I was gonna get beaten up, this was Fucking Worth It.

I scrambled to my feet, nearly slipping in his fucking Fabio conditioner.

I grabbed his hips, dug my fingers into his cum gutters. He didn’t deck me.

I hawked up a loogie into my right hand, and smeared it on the head of my cock, mixing with the half gallon of precum I’d been dripping in the last while.

I took my slick hand, looking up at him and applied it to his hole, to the fuckhole of this giant fucking stud.

He moaned and pushed his ass back on me.

WHO WAS THE BITCH NOW? I thought very quietly so I didn’t get murdered in a gym shower.

My cock was so hard I was afraid to touch him.

Did he just fucking moan as I used a finger to work my precum and spit inside of him?

I knew not to ask questions or get a condom or real lube or… I knew suddenly he wanted it to hurt a little bit, so I didn’t spit again.

I inched closer and wrapped my hands in his cum gutters again, pulling him close.

“Nggggg….” He groaned as I rubbed little cock along his hole. He bent over. He pushed back, trying to get his hole around my little cock. 

I was frantically wishing I had a video camera, a friend, a surveillance photo, something to prove later this wasn’t a dream.

He hunched his ass down and then up, clenching his butt cheeks to hold my hard little upward-pointing cock in a fucking vice. Around his side, I saw a huge string of precum drop from his massive straight cock to the floor. My own starfish clenched, wishing I could get fucked by him. But I had opened my big fucking mouth… 

He pushed back, and my cock vanished between his cheeks, and plunged fully inside him.

He bent over to take all of it, every last fucking centimeter. 

“NNNNG!” He groaned like I was the one with the 10 inch horescock. My cock bucked an pulsed. I wouldn’t fuck him long no matter what. My balls were jockeying for position with my Adam’s apple. FUCK!

I thought about nuns, vaginas, infections… it didn’t matter.

He put his eyes against his forearm and moaned in a slightly high-pitched voice, pushing himself against me.

This fucking norse god needed a little-dicked fucking faggot to fuck him.

My hands were already on his hips. Looking hard at the side of his face I pulled almost all the way out of the warm fucking clenching heaven of his hole, I waited a second.

“…NN!” He moaned, high pitched, needing more cock.

WHO IS THE FAGGOT NOW!? I thought super loudly.

I slammed my cock home. It felt bigger already.

I pulled back. I slammed home again.

He groaned. More precum drained from his massive penis, hitting the floor in strings as the hot water coursed over us.

I pulled back, paused, pulled my aching cock head all the way out of him.

His head whipped around to face me, need and rage fighting in his face.

As soon as I saw it, I slammed home again, pushing with my cardio hips and pulling with my PX-90 arms for all I was worth.

His face became an “O” of revelation.

SLAM SLAM SLAM SLAM I pounded him as hard as I possibly could. No slapping, my balls were already inside my tight little abdomen.

“OH, GAWD, you fucking FAG what are yOU DOoo… gaaaahhhhhhh,” I reached around and squeezed his balls like a mother fucker, this giant asshole.

I came. Volley after volley after volley shot up Thor’s fucking asshole.

He came. Volley after volley after volley hit him in the beard, slapped the shower wall, hit the shower wall, slapped the floor, drizzled out.

His muscles were relaxing as I pulled out and smacked his ass as hard as I possibly could.

“Next time you want a fucking faggot in your hole, ask nice, BITCH,” I said, as my hand print turned red on his giant ass.

He said something.

“What was that, bitch?” I said, my cock still as hard as fucking adamantium.

“…yes… SIR…” he grumbled, his cock arcing back up toward hard again….

Thor’s Training 1 – Admit It

I’m tall, and used to wear long hair down my back in a big braid. I lived at the gym. My friends called me Thor. I have a nice big, fat cock and know how to use it. I would fuck any hot boy that walked. They often ended up calling me ‘sir’, even though all the master/slave stuff didn’t interest me.

We all get older. We can’t work out all the time. The golden fur curled out from a treasure trail to cover my slightly beefier belly and my muscular chest and arms. My hair is short now and I sport a beard that tends to go gold and red in the summer.

The boys that ignored me in my glory days were waiting for me to get to my 40s. I have numbers for the hottest 20-somethings I could fuck any time I wanted. More often than not, now, I was looking for a date, a scotch and a good talk before I watned to use my skillful hands, mouth, body and cock to get some stud to give up his virgin “top” hole to my thick hungry dick.

My best friend these days is a tall, square-shouldered redhead from work named Rhonda. We traded stories of being dominant with men. She joked with me about my search for a long-term thing, telling me I was turning into a lesbian.

She’d been shacked up with some guy for a few weeks and I hadn’t seen her much. She asked me to meet her out at this place called the Watering Hole for a few drinks, maybe meet her new beau.

The place was a little trashier than I expected. I got some cheap Irish whiskey with lots of ice and leaned againts a wall in my shorts and Hawaiian shirt, watching the undersea ballet of beautiful young bodies grind against each other. Seemed like a tangle of straights and gays. Not too surprising South of Market.

The young made way for Rhonda. She was kind of a Norse queen. She joked the 2 of us were royalty. And you knew what happened to Norse heroes….

We hugged. She was looking radiant, sweaty, happy. We joked with each other. She asked me how my lesbian life was going. I told her to fuck off, but I was thinking about how long it’d been since I’d been the one who’d been swept off his feet. How my ass longed to get fucked even while my brain protested.

“Okay, so I’ve told Lan all about you,” Lan was her guy, apparently, “and he’s dying to meet you.” Her smile was big. That made me a little nervous for some reason.

Rhonda got me a larger glass of cheaper whisky. It was a little cloudy and had a bitter aftertaste. But even on my big body with all my resistance to liquor, it started making me warm and relaxed. I found myself subtly flexing for boys who were noticing me.

She brought Lan back with the third round of drinks. Mine a repeat of whatever strong, crappy whisky she’d gotten me. He was intensely hot. Maybe Italian, or Turkish. Not her usual type, which was mine too: thin, smooth, boyish. This was a *man*. He was little, maybe 5’9, but built. Big shoulders, big pex. A light dusting of dark hair on his arms. He was wearing a black UnderArmor compression top and he looked like a gladiator with his hawk nose, his crop of black beard stubble. He was wearing chinos that showed a big bubble butt and a big package pushed out the front.

I realized Rhonda and Lan had been talking. I felt kind of out of it. I had a huge grin plastered on my face.

“I guess you like him, huh, ‘Thor’?” Rhonda joked at me. She reached over and slapped my dick in my linen shorts. I hadn’t realized I’d gotten hard and was poking out obscenely. At 45, I didn’t really just get spontaneously hard anymore.

“Ya, hey, Lan. Nice to meet you, man.” I stuck my hand out across the table. I was weirdly unembarrased. Not that I got embarrased too often anyway, but with my fat dick tenting my shorts….

He took my hand in that power grip dudes do to power trip other men. He had big hands for a little guy, turning my slightly bigger hand under. My dick throbbed.

“Lan and I have had a really great time, haven’t we Lan?” she smacked his ass hard enough I knew he liked it, and that he wasn’t wearing any underwear – maybe a jockstrap. I could feel my cock splurt onto my linen shorts, getting them wet. Why did I feel 19 again?

“And, ‘Thor’, I told him all about you, and everything you and I have talked about,” she went on, stroking his ass. Was Rhonda offering me her boyfriend to fuck? She knew I wasn’t into the ladies….

“I think he needs a hug, Lan,” she said, stepping back.

He moved around the table and slowly laced his arms around my middle, pressing the big bulk of his little muscle body against my much bigger body. He flexed his massive six-pack against my cock. He was sweating through the UA top and it felt good against me. I sighed and rested my arms around his shoulders. He moaned into my chest hair and then turned his head and squeezed like little guys always do, across my floating ribs. I flexed my abs so I could take the deadly cobra squeeze. It hurt like hell, but my dick jumped against him, squirting precum through my linen shorts onto his already-wet shirt. He’d been dancing.
I kissed the top of his head the way the boys like. He eased up on the squeeze and moved both hands to my big muscle ass and squeezed hard, digging in. I groaned involuntarily.

It was a little while later. I’d lost some time. Rhonda and I were sitting on the couches at the back of the club, screened by a bunch of 8mm strips of celluloid as curtains.

Rhonda was holding the sides of my face. It was intimate, but not sexual.

“You’re so big, David,” she said, using my name. “I wasn’t sure how much to give you, are you okay?”

I felt soft, open, happier than I’d been in years. I’d leaked so much precum my shorts were slick with it all the way down to my ass. I was swimmy and happy. I nodded.

“I know you have trouble letting go. We are so close, I wanted to give you what you wanted. I wanted to make you happy, becuase your advice and your friendship has meant so much to me.”

I nodded, smiling big, wanting to kiss her on the cheek. To hug her. To have a cock up my ass.

“Tell me the real truth, David. Do you really want to let go? Do you really want to feel the other side of that dominant energy you’ve held for so many men over the years to make them happy? Are you really interested in letting go and having a beautiful man take charge of you? David, I really want to know the truth.”

The truth had been slowly busting its way out of me. The truth had been building for 20 years, since I became dominant because so many dudes saw my size and my strength and my strong personality and wanted me to tie them up, fuck them, dominate them, be in charge of their hot little holes.

In a huge flash I saw how I’d really been a kind of submissive the whole time, changing myself to make other men happy.

I looked into her green eyes. She was a queen. But I was no king. I was a hero, maybe. I was a servant, not a ruler. “Oh, my god, Rhonda, for that guy? For Lan, God, yes.” I waited a moment, and the begging came out of me, “Please. Will you let him have me?”

I was horrified at myself in the background. I’d stuck my fat cock in so many beggin boys. And this sounded just like them. I’d always kind of been disgusted by their weakness and turned on by how I was strong… but I was weak. That exact same way. Dominating them all while not being dominant myself made me that way.

Rhonda pulled on my beard. It hurt a little. “David, really? Do you want him to have you? Lan and I figured out that’s what he needs. To be with a man he can own.”

I nodded. I reached up with my big hands and pulled her strong, smooth hands away.

“It’s what I’ve always wanted.” I was harder than I’d ever been. And content while I freaked out. My ass clenched and unclenched. Maybe now I’d finally have a reason to own all those butt plugs I’d bought and never used.

She nodded. Satisfied.