Spike's Gym Routine
Spike clutched his gym bag tightly over his shoulder, trying his best to keep his fear from turning him around and sending him home. It’d be so easy to just run, to turn around and hide in his room, order a pizza, and stuff his face, but that’s just the type of thinking that brought him here tonight. Spike had always been a bit on the shorter side, but it wasn’t until he left high school did he start to get a little chubby, too. Too much junk food, Twilight said. Spike never listened to her, thinking it to be just the continued meddling of his very protective, know-it-all big sister.
Then, one fateful day, Spike stepped onto a scale and realized he had begun to pack on the pounds. While still not quite what he’d call fat, he was definitely veering into the “chunky” category, and not at all happy about that. The only solution was to cut down on his unhealthy eating habits, and introduce some exercise into his routine. So, begrudgingly, he took out a membership to a nearby gym and made his way along the path of gains.
A little self-conscious about his size, Spike wasn’t thrilled by the idea of being scrutinized and mocked by a gym full of giant meathead weightlifters, so he waited until nightfall. Surely with only a half-hour before closing time, the gym would be mostly empty. Spike would be able to slip in, become acquainted with the gym equipment and environment, and then come back during normal hours once he was comfortable.
Checking in was simple enough. The receptionist just reminded him of their closing hours, then guided Spike through to the locker room. Once Spike had changed into a tank top and some workout shorts, he gathered himself, steeled his nerve, and ventured into the weight room. There was nothing to worry about, he reminded himself. There wasn’t likely to be any gym-goers around at this time anyhow. This was about him familiarizing himself with the equipment, getting comfortable in the gym environment so that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself when he came back.
"C'mon, fellas, we can do better than that!"
Spike froze just outside of the weight room, straining his ears to listen. That was a voice he heard on the other side, a deep, powerful, buff-sounding voice, and he was talking to someone. Worse still, the voice had said “fellas”, plural, which meant there was more than one additional weightlifter. So much for being alone.
“Fuck it…” Spike shook himself, determined not to be scared off by some guy at the gym. Given the hour, whoever it was in there was more than likely finishing up their workout, anyway. All Spike had to do was go inside, give a wave to his fellow gym members, and continue about his business. Easy as pie. “Deep breaths, Spike. Deep breaths…”
When Spike pushed open the gym doors, there were a number of things he was expecting. Some jocks pumping iron, maybe some older guys trying to maintain themselves in their twilight years. No amount of mental gymnastics could have prepared Spike for the reality that was awaiting him; There were three men working out together, each of them bigger than Spike could ever hope to be. That, all in all, wasn’t altogether surprising. Even Spike could have expected that.
What he didn’t expect was for those three men to be entirely nude, displaying their perfectly crafted bodies to the world. Three titans among men, spotting each other and helping one another along in their workouts. Sweat dripped down their powerful, muscular frames, particularly one gentleman who stood between the benches occupied by his companions. His thick mustache wiggled on his face as he encouraged his friends, neither of whom seemed concerned by the fact that they were all naked, with the mustached gym-goer taking no care to keep his large, thick, semi-erect cock from getting too near his friends. Spike let out a little squeak of surprise, which caught the attention of the spotter, who looked up to the door. He smiled to Spike and waved, a gesture that Spike himself uneasily returned. Spike’s eyes darted down by some reflex, catching a healthy view of the man’s stallionhood, and he couldn’t help but notice that the man seemed to be getting harder the longer he was aware of Spike’s presence. Spike gripped his gym bag a little tighter, but didn’t retreat just yet. He made it this far, and he wasn’t about to quit just because some unreasonably fit men were electing to work out without clothes.
Though that would be a red flag for most people, Spike considered himself something of an optimist, and he was convinced he could make this work out.
“Hey there, bud! Don’t mind us, we’re just finishing up,” said the man. His friends looked up, only just then realizing that there was a new presence amongst them. The one on the left bench was tall, so much so that when set down his barbell and sat up, Spike still had to look up a considerable amount to meet his eye. He was a dark red specimen with dusty blonde hair and a six-pack hard enough to shatter ceramic. Spike didn’t mean to stare, but the powerful, smoldering look he received from this Adonis-like specimen grabbed his attention and held it. “Haven’t seen you around before. You new?”
“Y-yes, sir.” Spike shook himself, yanking his gaze away from the bead of sweat that dripped between the blonde man’s pecs and ran its way down his incredible physique. Why was he even staring? Spike wasn’t interested in men, especially not huge, musky, muscular men like the three before him. He was just surprised, he told himself. Taken aback by what he was looking at. “Um… I’m Spike. I, um… Just wanted to try to lose a couple of pounds, so…”
“That’s good, son. Any step forward is progress, in my book. I’m Hondo, by the way.” The mustached man, Hondo, smiled at Spike, and gestured to his blonde friend. “This is Mac, and the meathead over there is Bulk.”
“H-Hi. Mac. Bulk.” Spike took in a shaky breath, trying his hardest to get over the strange sensations he was experiencing. He was intimidated, as one could expect, given the amount of muscle in the room; Bulk wasn’t quite as tall as Mac, but he was broad like a barrel. He was built like a tank, and he was lifting more than Mac, although he seemed to be slowing down, whereas Mac had plenty of gas in the tank. “I’m Spike.”
“Ya said that already,” noted Mac. Hondo and Bulk chuckled, their laughter making Spike blush bright red in embarrassment. Even as he was being laughed at, Spike couldn’t help but stare at the naked giant before him. “Ya wanna snap a pic or something, kid? Ah’ll pose for ya, if’n you want.”
“Sorry! Sorry, I just… I didn’t know…” Spike gulped down his heart, deciding that the safest place to look was directly down at the floor. “I didn’t expect to see anyone here… Or naked…”
“Oh, yeah! Clothing has always been optional here, makes it easier for some folks,” explained Hondo. His body proportions were somewhere between those of his two friends; Notably taller and thinner than Bulk but still shorter and broader than Mac, Hondo seemed to be a perfect fusion of lean and ferociously, unrepentantly, undeniably powerful. Despite not lifting any weights at that particular moment, Hondo was still dripping a healthy amount of sweat, as though his workout had only just recently wrapped up. “Obviously, nudity isn’t required, so you don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”
“Kid looks plenty comfortable to me,” snorted Mac.
“Better be careful, son. You got Mac to say at least three whole sentences!” Hondo laughed, slapping a hand onto Mac’s shoulder. “That means he likes you.”
“Just feeling conversational today.”
“Right, right… Well, either way, we don’t bite, son,” promised Hondo. “It’s closing time soon, but I actually co-own the place, so… Take as much time as you need. We won’t kick you out or anything like that.”
“I don’t think I’ll be here too long, but… Thanks,” said Spike with a shaky little nod. He looked around the room, extremely overwhelmed by what he was seeing. So many different weights and machines for various parts of your body, and Spike scarcely knew where to even start. “Er… I’ve, uh… I’ve never actually done this, before…”
“Ah, of course. Well, that’s no problem. I’m done with my set, so I’m free to help you out. Mac, go spot Bulk, make sure he doesn’t pull anything trying to look impressive in front of the new kid.” Hondo stepped past the bench to meet Spike, bringing with him a thick, heavy musk, the heady, fading aroma of sweat. It didn’t stink, far from it, but Spike had his senses overwhelmed by the supremely masculine smell. “First of all, you should get yourself warmed up. Going into a workout session cold is a real good way to hurt yourself.”
“Oh. So… How should I go about warming up?”
“You can start by stretching. Get those muscles ready to go.” Hondo jerked his head to the side, beckoning for Spike to follow him to the right side of the room, where there were several mats laid out for comfortable stretching. Spike followed close behind the impressive specimen of a man, his heart thumping nervously in his chest for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was all alone with three men who could crush him between their pecs if they so desired (not that Spike was thinking about their pecs, of course). “You ever do squats before?”
“No, sir,” said Spike.
“It’s easy. Start with your legs apart, about shoulder-width.” As Hondo spoke, he demonstrated what he meant, and Spike easily mimicked by watching the big man. “Toes out, arms forward, deep breath, and…” Hondo sucked in a deep breath and dropped down into a squat, held it for a moment, and then stood right back up. “That’s all there is to it. You go.”
“Alright. Toes out, arms forward, deep breath…” Spike inhaled, breathing in a huff of the hot, heavy, sweat-perfumed air, and dropped down, then back up. “Like that?”
“Hm… Almost. Your technique is a little off, though. Do it again, but hold the squat for me,” said Hondo. Spike nodded, then did as he was told. Hondo approached from behind and grabbed Spike’s broad, girly hips with his powerful hands, making the comparatively shrimpy boy blush in surprise. “Your back is too straight. You wanna bring the hips back, like this…” Hondo firmly grabbed Spike’s hips, pulling them back until his back was almost arched. “There, like that. You wanna really throw that ass back.”
“O-oh. Ok. Sorry…”
“Don’t be sorry, kid, you’re learning. Give it another go.” Hondo watched carefully as Spike did another squat, his eyes very clearly focused on Spike’s rather plump behind. Spike could feel the older man’s gaze glued to his thick ass, but didn’t think much of it. Hondo was just making sure he was doing the exercises properly, which just so happened to involve Spike’s backside. Nothing strange going on at all. “Nice, that’s perfect! Do it just like that, ten times, and then we can move on to something else."
Hondo swatted Spike on the ass playfully, perhaps a bit more forcefully than he realized, and Spike only just barely contained his yelp of pain. The way he stifled the noise, clenching his jaw and restraining the sound coming from him, made it seem almost like he had moaned, although he would vehemently deny such things.
Although it was only a measly ten squats, Spike was so out of shape that even this meager warm-up was enough to set a light burn in his legs. As he finished his set, he tried not to let on just how tired he really was, but he wasn’t sure how well he hid this fact from Hondo. Even still, the older, much more physically fit man didn’t make any mention of Spike’s visible exhaustion. He just sat in wait, giving Spike a moment or two to catch his breath, before continuing on. After squats were a few simple stretches, which added to the burn but didn’t take Spike’s breath away quite as much as the squats.
“And… ten…” Once Spike had finished his stretches, he dropped to the floor, more than a little gassed from the exertion. Nothing he couldn’t recover from, of course. He just needed a moment to get his second wind. He tried not to focus on the fact that he was getting so tired before the actual workout, instead focusing on the positives; He had made it this far, whereas last week, he wouldn’t have thought to step foot in a gym at all. That was progress, no two ways about it. “Geez…”
“Just one more, kid, then you can get some water before you get onto the real stuff,” said Hondo. He had stood by Spike’s side the whole time, guiding and coaching him to stretch properly and without hurting himself. Spike appreciated that in a big way, and made a mental reminder to thank Hondo later. “Let’s do ten crunches, then a little break.”
“Alright. Crunches are, like, sit-ups, right?” asked Spike. Hondo nodded, and Spike gingerly assumed the position. Upon his new coach’s instruction, he crossed his arms over his chest and slowly forced himself up, and back down. This was far more difficult than Spike could have ever predicted, and Spike couldn’t imagine how he was supposed to do it nine more times (as a warm-up, no less). “Oof… You probably do like a hundred of these without breaking a sweat, huh?”
“I can do a few, yeah. But only because I’ve been doing it every day since I was your age. Keep at it, bud, and one day…” Hondo flexed his core, displaying his incredible sweat-glistened six-pack, even causing his thick, veiny cock to jump between his legs. Spike gulped at the display, beyond intimidated by such a physical specimen. How could anyone possibly be this big? “You might even look like me.”
“I doubt it. I can’t even do this warm-up without wanting to pass out.”
“Everyone starts somewhere, kid. The only way for it to get easier is if you keep working,” said Hondo. He strolled around, standing just above Spike’s head so as to keep an eye on his technique. “Go on ahead, Spike, just take as much time as you need. I’ll keep count for you, just focus on your crunches.”
“Okay. I can do that,” said Spike, taking in a deep breath. He readied himself, laying flat on the floor before slowly sitting up, then back down. As he worked out, he found himself in the strange position of laying at Hondo’s feet, looking up at his chiseled body, perspiration dripping down the grooves and bulges of his muscular form. At the apex of each rep, Spike found himself uncomfortably close to Hondo’s tip, so close that he could probably touch the bigger man’s appendage with his tongue. Not that Spike had any desire to lick Hondo’s strong, thick, sweaty dick. That was just how close he was, physically, from the most perfectly sculpted cock Spike had ever laid eyes on. It was impressive, no other way to say it. And there was nothing strange about taking an extra moment to look at something impressive. Not that Spike thought it was strange for a guy to be interested in a cock at all, just not him personally. The way he stared, almost hypnotized, was just due to the fact that he was transfixed by someone larger than life, like Hondo just above him. The heavy musk of sweat didn’t help matters, the pungent aroma making Spike’s senses go all fuzzy. It didn’t stink, really, just a powerful, burning odor that forced itself into Spike’s nostrils, melting his brain into pudding with its unwavering, unflinching masculinity.
“Kid. Kid. Hey, Spike!”
It was then, and only then, did Spike notice the burn in his core, as well as the way that his new trainer called for him.
“Huh?” Spike fell flat on his back, blinking suddenly as he snapped out of his stupor. “Wait, is that ten already?”
“Try twenty-three, kid. You hit ten a while ago,” said Hondo with a smirk. “I tried to stop you, but you were on a roll. Whatever zone you slipped into just now, keep at it. You’ll be a pro in no time.”
“Thanks, Mr. Hondo. I really appreciate the help.”
“Hondo.” Across the room, Mac stood with his arms crossed, ignoring the friend he was supposed to be spotting. He raised his arm and tapped at his wrist with one thick, powerful finger. “Quittin’ time. An’ it’s Saturday, if’n you forgot.”
“Oh, right. Hm…” Hondo rubbed his chin thoughtfully before finally giving a shrug. “You two mind if the kid sticks around? I feel bad kicking him out already, he just got here.”
“Uhh… Stick around for what?” asked Spike.
“Eh… We call it our cool-down. Some real after-dark stuff, the kinds of things we don’t tell the wives.”
“I do.” Bulk, who seemed to be even more a man of few words than Mac, finally spoke up. “She gets jealous sometimes.”
“I tell mine, too,” admitted Mac. “Sugar Belle likes hearing stories. Might even want to come around and watch in person one day.”
“Obviously, I tell my wife what I get up to, I was trying to be polite about it, you idiots,” groaned Hondo. He shook his head, turning his attention back to Spike. “We fuck, kid, is what we do. We have a big, messy fuck.”
“Uh… You what?” Spike was waiting for the punchline, but it never arrived, leaving him to contend with the reality that Hondo was being 100% serious. “Why… do you do that?”
“It’s fun,” said Bulk.
“An’ relaxing,” added Mac.
“Plus, it burns calories. Sex is good exercise,” said Hondo finally. “The wife keeps in shape, but she’s not hitting the gym with me, that’s for sure.”
“So like… Just here? In the gym?” asked Spike, as if that was the strangest bit about the situation.
“Lots of room. Plus, we own the place. We can do whatever we want here!” Hondo and his buddies shared a laugh, which Spike almost anxiously found himself joining. “In any case, you can stick around if you don’t mind some moans and groans from across the gym, or you can come back tomorrow if you like.” Hondo nudged Spike with his elbow, flashing a devious grin. “We might even let you join in, if you want."
"Oh. Um… Wow. I don't know…" Spike shrunk down a little, finding himself conspicuously in the center of attention. The way that the three older men looked at him made him feel like a hunk of meat, surrounded by predators. If Spike didn't know any better, he'd say that Hondo planned this all from the start. "I guess I've already been staring at you guys naked the whole time I was here anyway. Not like it can get any weirder…"
"Ah, lighten up, kid, we were just fooling around with you, you don't have to—" Hondo paused as he processed what Spike had said to him. "Sorry, what?"
"You said I could join and I guess I will. If that's okay."
The way that the three grown men looked at each other was reminiscent of a group of young boys being told Hearth's Warming was coming early.
“Hell yeah,” grumbled Bulk, finally setting down his barbell and sitting up from the bench. The big man was large in more respects than just his broad shoulders, his thick, veiny member standing at attention as he rose from the bench. Spike caught a glimpse of the massive meatrod and gulped, only just then coming to grips with what he had just agreed to. “I've been eyeing that ass since you walked in, boy."
"Oh geez…" Spike looked about ready to faint, something that Hondo mercifully picked up on.
"Easy, meathead. The kid's new to all this, and I don't need you scaring him off," said Hondo firmly. Bulk put his hands up in surrender and, once Hondo was sure the message was received, he turned his attention back towards Spike. "We wanna have a little fun with you, kid. Emphasis on 'fun'. So if any of us does something you're not into, just say the word and we'll stop. Alright?"
"Y-yes, sir." Spike’s heart thumped in his chest, his brain racing to justify what he was about to do. All he wanted was to slim down a little, and now he was being propositioned by three older men, each capable of snapping him in two with their bare hands if they so desired. Conventional wisdom would say that Spike should back out, come back another time, and pretend this whole ordeal never happened. And yet, for one reason or another, Spike remained where he stood, surrounded by three mountainous men with a barely-contained lustful hunger the likes of which Spike had never before seen. “Er… What should I do?”
“Show off that fat ass!” called Bulk. Mac slugged him in the shoulder, rolling his eyes at the outburst. “Ow! What the hell, Mac?”
“A man of few words,” sighed Mac. He sat down at the bench but, instead of working out, he began working his hand up and down his impressive pillar of meat. “But still always too many…” He slapped Bulk on the ass, resulting in a sound closer to two rocks slamming together than flesh meeting flesh. “Sit down and watch for a bit, dumbass. Hondo will toss him our way when the kid is ready.”
“T-toss me?” gulped Spike, shrinking down slightly. “You guys… I’ve uh… Never done anything like this before. Could you maybe take it easy on me?”
“C’mon, kid, look at me. You really think I’m gonna let these two meatheads rough you up?” asked Hondo. He slid in behind Spike, pressing himself against the boy’s soft, plush bottom. With powerful hands that still possessed a gentle sense of grace, Hondo grabbed the hem of Spike’s shirt and slowly pulled it up over the boy's head. Spike blushed as his slightly pudgy body was exposed, the slight curve of his belly inviting wolf-whistles from Bulk and Mac, the blush accompanied by a yelp of surprise when Hondo reached up and pinched at Spike's soft nippled between his strong fingers. "Just let Daddy take care of you, okay?"
“Hnngh…” Spike could feel himself melting into Hondo’s powerful hands, turning to putty between his thick fingers. The older man tossed Spike’s sweaty shirt to the side and allowed himself the pleasure of exploring his young, squishy, tender body. His calloused palms passed over Spike’s smooth, cushioned, curvy midsection, gently kneading his chubby torso and tugging firmly at his pudgy belly. “That feels… nice…”
“I’ll make you feel even nicer, kid, once we get you a little more comfortable,” promised Hondo. To that end, he slowly and sensually tugged down on Spike’s shorts, then, without much warning, spun the younger man around. Now with Spike’s back to their audience, Hondo dragged Spike’s boxers down to his ankles, eliciting a smattering of cheers from the peanut gallery upon the reveal of Spike’s thick, jiggly, feminine booty. “Goddamn, kid. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”
“M-my… It’s not my birthday?”
“It’s not? Really?” Hondo grinned as Spike almost nervously shook his head. “Then what in God’s name are you doing with all this cake?”
A sharp, satisfying slap echoed throughout the room upon Hondo forcefully introducing his palm to Spike’s cushiony bottom. His doughy, girly ass jiggled and bounced from the impact, and, unlike before when Hondo had playfully struck him, Spike couldn’t help it this time; A loud, quivering moan escaped Spike, and his whole body jumped and jerked away from the source of the strike. This forced him to burrough himself closer against Hondo, and he blushed when he felt the gargantuan third leg rub against his own comparatively pathetic package.
“You’re one lucky fuck, old man,” grumbled Bulk. He leaned back and, much like Mac, began to stroke himself to the show unfolding before him. “You always get the cute ones.”
“‘Member that one fella? The one that tried to hook up with his daughter?” chuckled Mac. “After that video he showed us, never woulda guessed that kid was after anything other than some deep dickin’.”
“What can I say? It’s a gift,” chuckled Hondo. “Something about me just seems to attract fat assed sluts, like our new friend here.”
“S-slut?!” For reasons Spike couldn’t quite put into words, being called such a name didn’t upset him. If anything, he thought he might’ve enjoyed it, the gravelly-voiced words crawling up his spine and sending tingles throughout his entire body. “I’m n-not a slut…”
“Then why do I feel your little stiffy poking my leg, huh?” To prove his point, Hondo reached between Spike’s legs and gripped his package, not tightly enough to hurt, but just enough to remind Spike just how strong of a man he really was. Spike bloomed bright red, squeezing his eyes shut when Hondo began rubbing a big, thick thumb against his smaller, less imposing pecker. “Don’t get me wrong, kid, it’s a cute little dick you’ve got, but… I don’t think you’re gonna use it much tonight. This ass of yours, on the other hand… We might have to put this thing to work.”
“I-I-I don’t know… You’re really big…” Spike said with a gulp. “And I’ve never… Well. You know. I’m a little nervous…”
“Boo,” jeered Bulk. Once again, Mac punched him in the shoulder, and, once again, Bulk was clearly offended by such a display. “Fuck off, Mac.”
“Leave the kid alone. Trust me, Hondo will get him ready for us to have our fun,” said Mac.
“Get him ready, eh?” hummed Hondo. He smirked, some devious idea apparently dawning on him just then. He placed a strong, unwavering hand onto Spike’s shoulder and slowly, steadily, unflinchingly pushed him downward. “Good idea, boys. Let’s get the kid used to having a fat dick in him.”
“What are you…” Spike’s line of questioning evaporated into vapor when his knees hit the ground and he found himself at eye-level with Hondo’s enormous cock. Perhaps it would be more apt to say that he was at nose-level, because the heavy, heady, musky stench of Hondo’s manly sweat was the only thing Spike could focus on. He initially recoiled away from the scent, but it soon began to work its way into his mind that it wasn’t an unpleasant odor. He surely felt as though he should find it unpleasant, but something about the way it suffocated him, choking him with its manliness, made his mouth water. “It smells so… strong…”
“Well, I did just finish a heavy workout. What did you expect, roses and summer breeze?” chuckled Hondo. He grabbed his cock and swung it playfully against Spike’s face, splattering his soft, squishy cheek with sweat from the impact. “If you think the smell is something special, why don’t you go on ahead and give it a taste, eh?”
Spike gulped, but gave a shaky, unsteady nod nevertheless. He parted his lips and, with equal parts curiosity and trepidation, took Hondo’s fat, bulbous head into his mouth. If the smell was powerful, then the sweaty, salty, musky, masculine taste of Hondo’s cock was nearly debilitating. It was like a mouthful of fireworks, gunpowder cracking against Spike’s each and every taste bud until it was impossible to even imagine tasting anything else. Before he knew it, Spike was drooling, and he leaned forward to slide more of Hondo’s thick slab of meat into his mouth.
“Good boy, take it deep…” groaned Hondo. He placed a hand atop of Spike’s head and, with a gentle push, urged the boy to keep going. By some instinct deep inside of him, some debased voice that he didn’t even realize he had, Spike did just that, slurping a sloppy trail of drool and sweat up Hondo’s cock. He couldn’t explain the sensation that was compelling him to suck off this older, muscular man, nor did he particularly care to try at that moment. His body seemed to be taking over for him at that point, forcing him to gorge himself on the fat, tasty dick in his mouth. “Fuck, kid, you’re a natural. But my buds are probably getting a little jealous.”
“We don’t mind sitting an’ watching,” chimed Mac. This time, it was Bulk who slugged Mac in the shoulder, nearly snarling at his good friend.
“Speak for yourself. I’m dying to get my rod polished like that,” growled Bulk. Hondo snickered to himself, which only further earned the ire of Bulk. “When are you gonna pass him this way, old man?”
“You mind if I loan you to my buddy over there, kid?” sighed Hondo. As much as he was enjoying Spike’s untrained, but admittedly naturally talented, mouth, he knew how this was likely to end up. “He’s gonna throw a tantrum otherwise, the big fucking baby.”
“Mommy and daddy didn’t give him enough attention as a baby,” snorted Mac. “Probably why he’s such a queer now, jerking off in a room full of naked dudes.”
“This was your idea, ya hick!” shouted Bulk. “If I’m queer, what does that make you?”
“This ain’t about me, meathead.”
“Mhmmmm…” Though it was visibly a struggle, Spike managed to pull himself away from Hondo’s big hunk of man meat, his face damp with sweat and saliva, and a thin string of saliva connecting his tongue to the tip of Hondo’s cock. “I don’t mind… Um… If you want me to suck you, too, I can—”
“Great, get over here and put that tongue to work,” grumbled Bulk. He leaned back on the bench, shoving Mac aside to give himself more room. “Move it, dumbass.”
“Whatever. I was gonna get some shit outta my bag anyhow.”
“W-wow. You’re, um…” Spike struggled with words as he approached, his knees weak and his mouth watering. “Big…”
“Look, kid. You’re cute, and I really don’t wanna be rude, but it’s been a long session and I’m horny as hell, so…” Bulk turned over onto all fours, facing away from Spike and spreading his legs slightly. “Eat my ass now, talk to me about my fat cock another time.”
“O-oh. Okay.” Spike reached forward with shaky hands and grasped Bulk’s firm, chiseled cheeks. He spread them as much as he could and bravely dove forth. His tongue eagerly and anxiously went to work, lapping at his new gym buddy’s tight hole. The bitter, salty, musky taste of sweat dulled Spike’s senses, melting his brain into a thick soup. Bulk let out a long, satisfied groan, which made Spike's soft cheeks flush red. Such a big, strong man like Bulk, making such noises, and all because of little old Spike? It was a uniquely intoxicating experience, and each haggard breath and grunt of satisfaction spurred Spike to lick harder, tongue deeper, until his lips and nose were coated in a thin sheen of sweat and his own saliva.
“Look at him go!” chuckled Hondo, somewhere unseen from behind Spike. He turned his head back to see his new gym buddy, but didn’t get far before Bulk reached back and straightened his head back with a firm, powerful hand. Spike bloomed even brighter red, but went right back to polishing Bulk’s pucker. “You better focus on him, before he goes on and throws another tantrum, the big fucking baby.”
“If this kid didn’t have the tongue of an angel, I’d come over there and kick your ass, old man,” grumbled Bulk. His eyes darted to Spike, and he muttered under his breath to the young lad. “Don’t fucking stop…”
“Tongue of an angel, huh?” Mac had returned from wherever it was that he had gone, and though Spike was very curious to see what it was he had gone to fetch, he knew better than to turn his mouth away from Bulk’s sweaty, musky, delectable hole for even a second. “That’s damn near romantic, as far as this meathead goes. When’s the wedding, Bulks?” Instead of responding to the gentle barbs from his friend, Bulk focused on the service he was receiving, and he reached back to force Spike’s soft round face even deeper into his toned, hardened cheeks. “You want me to get him ready, old timer?”
“Yeah, go for it. Already texted the wife, let her know I’m gonna be a bit late,” said Hondo. “Take your time, really make him comfortable.”
Though Spike couldn’t see Mac, on account of being buried in between the most formidable buns of steel Spike had ever seen, he could still hear the big man approach from behind. Moreso, he could feel Mac grow nearer, his gargantuan frame radiating power as he stepped closer and closer to Spike. He came to a stop soon and, without saying a word, grabbed two handfuls of soft, plush booty, groping Spike and kneading his buns like an expert baker. After bouncing Spike’s round bottom with his hands for a bit, no doubt savoring the way his rump jiggled, he produced the item he had gone to fetch from his bag; Mac popped the cap open to his bottle and poured a more than generous amount of a clear, viscous substance onto Spike’s plump posterior. With his strong, calloused hands, Mac rubbed the lube all along Spike’s backside, working it down and into his tight, virgint hole. He even went as far as to grab Spike’s comparatively tiny package with his powerful hands, giving the little guy a gentle squeeze.
“Ain’t this the cutest little pecker you’ve ever done seen?” chuckled Mac. “Makes sense, in a weird way. Tiny dick, but he makes up for it with that fat ass of his.”
“Better admire it while you can, boys,” said Hondo, rubbing his hands together greedily. “It’s not gonna look mint condition for too much longer.”
“You know me. I like workin’ the field after it’s been ploughed.”
“Heh,” chuckled Bulk. “Farmboy likes sloppy seconds. Gay.”
“Kid, feel free to bite him right on the asshole if you want,” remarked Mac. “Lord knows he deserves it…”
“Pass the lube,” said Hondo. Mac complied, watching silently when Hondo applied a generous gob of the fluid to his own impressive appendage. Once he was all slicked up and ready to go, he tossed the bottle back to Mac and approached his target: Spike’s thick, juicy ass. With one hand, Hondo spread the younger guy’s doughy cheeks. With the other, he guided his thick sausage forward, poking and prodding at Spike’s slick, slippery asshole. Spike froze, tongue not even twitching in Bulk’s asshole out of surprise. “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’m not gonna hurt you. You’ll dig this, I promise. Just relax, don’t fight it, and let Daddy handle it.”
Hondo waited a few beats, plenty long enough for Spike to refuse or tap out for a break. When he did neither, the big man did what he’d been dying to do from the very first moment he laid eyes on Spike’s feminine frame; He pressed the fat head of his dick against Spike’s waiting hole, and slowly forced himself into his tight, virgin passive. At first, Spike began to panic, the initial shock and pain almost too much for him to handle. Just as he began to squirm and struggle, he felt a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. Hondo waited before continuing, keeping his strong hand on Spike until he calmed down a bit.
Strangely, it worked. Despite hardly knowing Hondo or his buds, Spike felt oddly safe in the older man’s hands. Something about his almost inhuman power, and the gentle way he wielded it, made Spike feel secure. So, after a moment or two, Spike relaxed, which allowed Hondo to continue on as he planned. Still holding onto Spike’s shoulder, Hondo forced another fat inch into the quivering hole, then another, and another, each bit somehow feeling thicker, harder, and bigger than the last. And yet, still, even as he was being penetrated by a cock that felt closer to a forearm than a man’s package, Spike managed to continue tonguing at Bulk’s sweaty hole, much to the meathead’s delight.
“Fuck, this kid is great!” Bulk reached back and gripped Spike by the emerald locks, pulling him in even deeper. “I hate to say it, but… Mac, you gotta try him out.”
“Yer offerin’ to share?” snorted Mac, not willing to believe it for a second. “What’s the catch?”
“The catch is I’m gonna nut if he keeps eating me out like this,” snorted Bulk. Finally, he released his grasp on Spike’s head and pulled away, letting the poor lad get the lungful of fresh air that he so desperately needed. “Don’t wanna blow too soon. Gramps is gonna leave some for us, right?”
“If you’re lucky…” murmured Hondo.
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing. You two can have fun with his front half for now.”
“Well, if the old man has his ass, and you need to catch your breath…” Mac elbowed Bulk out of the way, a bit more gently than he would’ve otherwise, and waved his cock in Spike’s face. “Guess it’s my turn.”
“Just… Gimme a sec…” Spike propped himself on his forearms, and let out a little shrieking moan when Hondo begain to work his hips, drilling into Spike slowly and with purpose. “I need… Oh fuck… Oh God…”
Mac swung his thick, meaty cock into Spike’s face, gently slapping his soft, smooth face with a dense helping of big, manly cock. The impact didn’t hurt, exactly, but it did stun Spike just a bit, and left a sweaty mark against his cheek. Spike looked up, eyes big and round like a puppy, and Mac couldn’t help but swat him again with his impressive manhood. After being smacked around a bit, Spike seemed ready enough, and let his mouth hang open to accept Mac’s musky, sweaty, masculine meat onto his tongue.
Fireworks erupted in Spike's mind, the scent and flavor of sweat and musk blinding his senses. His brain was set alight, and his mouth watered as more and more cock entered it. Spike slurped his own slobber from Mac's length, all but screaming when Hondo slammed into him from behind. Much of his formerly gentle demeanor seemed to melt away, and now he was primarily concerned with ramming his fat cock as deep into Spike’s guts as he could manage. His hips bounced against the younger lad’s soft, shapely backside with a satisfying plapping sound to punctuate each hard, savage thrust.
Spike couldn’t help but moan and whimper like a bitch in hear, letting out a particularly whimpy squeal when Hondo’s giant mitts grabbed him by his short, spiky emerald locks for additional grip while he reamed the beautifully plush bottom before him. With Hondo drilling his ass and holding his head still, there was nothing Spike could do to escape when Mac decided to start pivoting his hips at a comparable speed to Hondo. He could only sit there and take it, a wet, sloppy gluking sound emanating from his tight throat from the force at which Mac explored it. There were many instances in which Spike was certain something might come up, but, somehow, he managed to keep his lunch down even while the back of his throat was slammed by such a thick portion of summer sausage.
“This fat ass… So fucking tight!” groaned Hondo. He gave Spike’s butt a heavy swat, relishing at the stinging handprint he left on the boy’s jiggling cheek. “Take it, you little bitch, you know you like it…”
“Easy, old timer. Kid’s first time, remember?” said Mac, cocking a brow. He slid his cock back until his meat was freed from Spike’s gullet, slick with a heavy coating of throat slime and connected to Spike’s mouth via a few thick strands of drool. Spike barely got to nod his appreciation before letting out a hacking cough, splattering even more gooey slobber onto the bench. “He’s not too rough with you, is he, kid? We can—”
“More…” coughed Spike. “Give… me… more…”
“You sure? We can slow down, and if you don’t like the whole name calling thing—”
“I’ve never… been so turned on… in my life…” Spike let his tongue out of his mouth, his entire body quivering and shuddering with delight. “Give me more!”
“You heard the little slut,” said Hondo, his thick mustache curling up as he grinned. “Give him hell, boys.”
“If you ever need a breather, just tap my leg or somethin’,” said Mac with a shrug. He had done his due diligence, as far as he was concerned, and if Spike said he was into it, who was he to argue with that? “Hey, Meathead. Get over here, we’re gonna stuff his face.”
Like a child finally allowed to open his presents on Christmas Morning, Bulk gleefully returned to the fray, his firm cock just as hard as ever, if not harder. Spike let out a chuckle that was equal parts nervous and elated by the pair of beefcakes standing before him, swinging their deliciously salty, delectably smelly, divinely sweaty cocks just under his nose. As each cock made its way under his maw, Spike gave it a lick, a sloppy kiss, worshipping the musky meat before finally opening his mouth as wide as he could possibly manage to take one onto his tongue.
To his surprise, it wasn’t one that he took, but rather, both. Perhaps predictably, Mac and Bulk couldn’t seem to decide who would get to feet Spike’s soft, wet, velvety throat first, so they both went for it simultaneously. The two titanic man eclipsed the sun, casting a shadow down on Spike, which only served to make him feel smaller, more vulnerable. He was a toy to these men, real men, not soft, squishy, feminine girly boys like himself. It was only right that he service the three of them, and service them, he did. Mac and Bulk alternated their thrusts, each time poking Spike deeper in the back of his throat, their slick shafts gliding against one another’s and serving only to heighten their pleasure. The three men moved with flawless rhythm, each pull out replaced by a thrust in from the opposite side, giving Spike no reprieve from their onslaught. Shockwaves rippled throughout his chubby booty, his pudgy cheeks stinging red from the continued, unrelenting impact of Hondo’s pelvis.
“Work those hips, slut. Bounce that ass!” said Hondo, spanking Spike one more time. “My buddies fucking your throat want a show, too.”
Spike could barely hear what he was being told to do, yet, somehow, his body knew just how to do it; Even as his face was being pounded, and his fat ass was being drilled, Spike managed to work his hips, throwing himself back to further impale his hole on Hondo’s impressive tool. He made sure his cheeks bounced and jiggled as much as possible, truly taking advantage of his girly physique for the first time. It wasn’t clear if the additional movement of his hips made things feel better, or if it was maybe just a trick of his mind, but it didn’t matter to Spike. All that mattered was how damn good it felt to be pounded like that, and he had no desire for the pleasure to stop, so he just kept on twerking his jiggly buns on his Daddy’s cock, until he could feel his adorably, fun-sized dick begin to twitch.
A single moan escaped him, and then, the sharks could smell blood; Hondo worked faster, harder, fucking his new gym toy even deeper than before. Spike’s breaths came in sharply, unevenly, which was not at all helped by the continued beating to the throat he was enduring. His thick thighs quivered, his whole body shivering with pleasure, and Hondo only seemed to be getting rougher. He grabbed Spike’s shapely hips and really went to town, battering into his prostate, until, finally, Spike let out another shrill, feminine moan, and his orgasm hit him like a freight train. First, his dick spurted a few unnoteworthy droplets of watery cum, but that wasn’t all for him. Somehow, even after his cum stopped pulsing out his cumshot, he could still feel his climax. In his core, his cock, his toes, hell, Spike would’ve sworn he could feel it in his hair, the quaking, almost painfully overwhelming pleasure.
Bulk was the next to reach his peak, and he rammed his cock deeper into Spike’s greedy mouth than previously thought possible. With a savage, animalistic snarl, his cock all but exploded and sprayed thick, gooey ropes of cum down Spike’s throat. It was too much for him to swallow all at once, especially with his face still being fucked, and his mouth soon began to fill with hot, salty, bitter jizz. Bulk pulled out and painted Spike’s cute, gentle features with the last of his load, all the while giving Mac the chance to finish. The big farmhand was mostly quiet in his orgasm, just letting out a low, shaky breath as his heavy nuts emptied into Spike’s mouth. Bulk had mostly filled his gob with seed, so Spike had absolutely no chance of containing all of Mac’s load. Still, he tried, gulping down as much cum as he could before the rivier of seed inevitably broke the damn and began to drip from the corners of his mouth.
Last, but certainly not lease, came Hondo himself. He held off for as long as he could, but the way Spike’s virgin asshole squelched and gripped him was simply too much, and he let out a satisfied moan when Spike’s tight velvet walls milked him of every drop his balls had to offer. Though thought to be impossible, Hondo came more than both of his friends, each jet of cum feeling more akin to a spray from a fire hose into Spike’s guts. He could swear his belly was swelling as it was filled with the biggest, heaviest, most manly load to ever be shot in all of human history. It never seemed to stop, and it wasn’t until Spike had hit the sticky bench and felt the hot cum spurting lewdly from his abused hole did he realize that it was over.
“Fuuuuuuck…” breathed Spike. He twitched and tried to push himself up, but fell back down into his own puddle of fluids. “Sho goo…”
“I like him,” chuckled Bulk. He patted Spike gently on the back. “You did good, kid.”
“I’ll say. Haven’t had a throat that tight in a long while,” agreed Mac, falling onto the bench beside Spike and giving his hair a friendly little rustle. “Hopefully, next time I’ll get a turn on that ass of yours. Enough to make a grown man cry.”
“I don’t know if you can hear this, kid, but, as far as we’re concerned, you’re alright,” said Hondo. Unable to resist the siren call of a fat, girly boybutt, he spanked Spike one last time, and grinned. “You’re part of the club, now. We’re gonna hit the showers, but you’re welcome back here whenever you want. I’ll leave my number at the front desk so we can set up another ‘work out’, if you know what I mean.”
The three herculean specimens made way for the exit, only making it a few steps before Spike spoke up.
“Wait…” The three looked back, and Spike just barely brought his head up to ask with a grin. “One more set?”
Hondo, Bulk, and Mac shared a look before Hondo said what they were all thinking.
“Kid, I’m just getting warmed up!”