Extra Large Italian

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***First attempt at writing a multi-part series, this is Chapter 1. All constructive criticism is welcomed, and I hope you enjoy. Don't worry, this will get racier as it progresses. The story will involve both MF and MM sexual themes***

Chapter 1

Michael Salvatore D’Avanzo (known to his friends as Mikey D, among other things), sighed and looked at his watch – a cheap Timex with a rubberized band. The watch was fine for work. Nothing expensive, it did the job, and it didn’t matter if it got dirty or a little banged-up.

2:35 PM. “Fuck, three more hours of this shit?!,” Mikey hissed through his teeth.

He’d been on the job since 7AM that morning. A new condo building for dickhole Fintech yuppies being constructed in Hoboken. The site was in its initial phases, ultimately it would be 35 stories high with a view of Manhattan. Mikey and his crew were there for the initial part – demo-ing the existing structures, tearing-up concrete, and removing all of the debris.

The work was physical, and it was already a soaking-wet-humid 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Jersey in August, my man.

Mikey sighed and wiped his brow with his ropey, thick forearm, the dense black hair matted with sweat and construction grime. Back to work cugine, he thought, as he gripped the jackhammer and prepared to break out yet another block of concrete.

“Hey, fangul!” Mikey heard before he started back to work. “It’s breaktime, bro!”

Mikey turned toward the voice. It was his buddy and crewmate Tony Bruni, a neighborhood guy from Middletown, whom Mikey had known since third grade.

Tony smiled at Mikey, bright white, perfect teeth in the middle of a deeply tanned face – the result of many hours in the sun, and many hours in the “sun” at “Miami Skin” in Monmouth County.

“Tony, stopfuckingaround, it’s not breaktime, and I want to get out of here onfuckingtime today.”

Mikey was pissed, but not that angry, how could anyone be at that kid.

“Naw brah, it’s BREAKTIME,” Tony said as he pumped his fist in the air. “BREAKTIME!” Tony pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and started playing “Body” by Loud Luxury.

Tony knew EVERY word in this gym bro anthem and did pretty damn good pantomime to the lyrics. He complimented the show by pulling his sweaty wife beater up and waving his hardhat over his head every time the lyric, “losing all my innocence” was sung.

The site crew guys were howling at this point.

“Tony! Stop that shit! You look like a fanook!” Mikey laughingly said as Tony twisted his abs and bucked his hips like a stripper.

The other guys continued chuckling as Tony approached Mikey.

“Hey brah, it’s Friday, my man, what are we getting into tonight? Wild shit, right?!”

“Naw, I have a date with Stephanie Costanzo tonight, my man. You remember her, right, from back in the day?”

“Stephanie Costanzo?? That chick who had braces until senior year and who was in Science Club?!” Tony said in disbelief. “THAT Stephanie Costanzo??”

“Uhh huh.” Mikey said shrugging.

“Stephanie Costanzo who is the little sister of Vince, the fucking asshole who used to slap our asses with a towel in the locker room after we had wrestling practice, Costanzo?”

“Yup”

“Alright cugine, you do you brah, but that chick was a fuckin nerd, amirite?!”

“She’s not so nerdy now,” Mikey said.

“What do you mean?”

Mikey made the shape of an hourglass with his big, rough hands, and then made an upward cupping motion.

“Youhavetobefukinkiddingme, brah!” Tony laughed. “All grown up now I see, I need details.”

Mikey blushed through his tan and laughed a little nervously.

“I mean, uhh, we just reconnected recently, uhh.”

“I see how it is, bro, ok.” Tony winked lasciviously and squeezed his crotch through his jeans.

“Well, uh, umm, ha.”

“I’ll just get the deets later . . . and I want to know EVERTYHING about that sweet fica, man!” Tony said as he put his hands in front of him and thrust his hips back and forth in a fucking motion, making a high pitched, falsetto moaning sound, “Mikey, Mikey, Mikey, I need you to light my Bunsen burner! Ahh OOOOH!”

Mikey hit the rim of Tony’s hardhat, knocking it to the ground, and laughed. “Ok, my man, I’ll see you at Golds on Saturday at 10.”

***
Finally, it was 530, time to go home.

Mikey got into his Ford F-150 and turned the AC on full blast. He was covered in sweat and the cool air felt fantastic against his thick, muscular frame.

As he drove down the Garden State Parkway the A/C blew against his chest. Mikey didn’t notice until he started to shiver a little, the air against his skin made his nipples tense and press through his still damp beater.

Mikey subconsciously brushed his big hand over his left nipple, the one with the barbell piercing. Man, that felt good, ha! Mikey reached his hand under the strap of his beater, feeling his thick pec and the trimmed chest hair, giving it a good squeeze.

“Damn, I’m putting some mass back on,” Mikey laughed to himself. Those extra days at the gym with Tony and Nate (another high school buddy of theirs from way back) were paying off. Mikey was 28, but had kept his physique in pretty top form, building on his muscle memory from high school wrestling and putting on a bunch of lean mass as he got older. Working in construction definitely helped the cause as well. Now, he was a built 6’2”, 230, with a 32 inch waist. That, coupled with his chiseled jaw, thick black stubble, full eyebrows and lashes, and sleek, medium length black hair, and mischievous hazel eyes meant he was always popular with the ladies.

That and something else. Mikey was especially blessed in the meat department. Soft he was around 6 inches, hard he was close to 10, and 7 in diameter. A thick, vascular piece that matched the rest of his body . . . and his set of massive, low-hanging balls, each the size of a plum.

Mikey pulled off the Garden State and headed toward Middletown. It was going to be a good night with Stephanie, he couldn’t wait to shower-up and meet her.
 
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Chapter 1 Cont.

Mikey pulled into his place around 7PM, a space above the garage of the small house his brother, Danny, and sister-in-law, Gina owned, which had been converted into a bedroom, small kitchen, and bathroom. It wasn’t his dream pad, but it was fine for now, and the landlords were friendly.

Hopping out of his vehicle, he sprinted up the stairs into his apartment and peeled his sweaty beater off his thick torso, the dampness and tightness of it making it a bit difficult to pull past his wide lats. Frustrated, Mikey almost ripped the ribbed garment as he finally yanked it off his body.

Going into the small bathroom, Mikey tuned the shower on full blast and kicked his work boots off, undid his belt, pulled down his jeans, and finally pulled off his damp, white Armani (c’mon bro, he is Jersey Italian!) boxer briefs.

The shower at exactly the right temp, Mikey opened the door and entered the steamy space. He started by running his hands through his thick black hair, luxuriating in the stream of hot water. Mikey then squirted a big glob of body wash on his hand, sage and citrus, a great manly smell which reminded him of summer and being at the Shore with good friends. He lathered himself up. Starting on his chest and armpits, making sure to clean the dense patch of hair under there thoroughly. Mikey moved his hands over his thick abs, visible but not completely cut-up (Mikey still enjoyed pasta and the occasional drink or three). After the abs, Mikey moved his hands down to his pubes – trimmed, but still there – and made sure to spend some good time on his cock . . . which was now starting to fill-out at little as he pulled on it.

“Fuck I’m horny!” Mikey moaned, thinking about his date with Stephanie later that night and her fantastic tits, legs, and ass. It had been three days since he had last cummed, and a bunch of gym sessions and hard physical labor since then hadn’t helped. His testosterone was at a very high level right now, too.

Thinking it would help, Mikey moved his hands from his cock to his full, muscular ass and hairy crack, soaping those up as well. As his thumb accidentally brushed his hole, a shiver went through his body. “Fuck, that’s not helping!” Mikey said to himself while making a face. He moved down to his huge glutes, hammys, tapered calves, and size 12 feet.

Finally done, Mikey got out of the shower and started toweling himself off and looked in the mirror while tussling his damp hair. Mikey looked at his reflection, flexed his bicep, kissed it, and laughed while saying, “damn you look GOOD, bro!” Geez I’m such a douche, lol.

He sprayed Armani cologne on his neck, chest, and his guy . . . coverage is important!

Mikey then decided what to wear for his date and decided on a grey athletic fit polo, dark jeans, and nice, new, clean white sneakers. He wanted to look good, but also not over-the-top. After all, Stephanie was who was supposed to look the best, not him, her big “galoopa” escort for the night!

Getting in his pick-up, Mikey took a quick look in his rearview, “Ok, all good, brah!” and winked. Time to meet Stephanie. “Little” Mikey was ready to go, too. Filling out to a semi of around 7 inches and stretching down his left pant leg.

“Down boy! We have plenty of time tonight,” Mike said while giving his cock a quick squeeze. “Here goes nothing with Bunsen Burner Babe!” Christ that was corny.
 
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1091950

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***I hope people are enjoying this so far. Sorry for the slow build-up, but there will be action soon, and probably some unexpected things happening to Mikey and the crew!***

Chapter 2

Mikey arrived at the Costanzo residence and pulled up to the curb. The house was a modest split level from the 70s which had been meticulously maintained by Mrs. Costanzo, who now split her time between West Palm and Middletown after Mr. Costanzo passed several years ago. Now Stephanie and Vince were the two primary occupants – with Stephanie ruling the roost upstairs, and Vince taking the lower level, and the garage, which he had converted into a home gym.

Mikey got out of his truck and ran his fingers through his hair, making sure it was all in place. He rang the doorbell and waited for about thirty seconds before the door opened.

“Hey babe, looking goo . . .” he started, before realizing it was not Stephanie’s pretty face and hot body facing him, but a scowling, dour Vince.

Vince stared at Mikey for a minute while crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Whaddayouwant, fuck face . . . to get that fanook ass of yours slapped with a towel again for old times sake?” Vince smiled wickedly, but his grey eyes were stone cold.

“Jesus Vince, grow the fuck up, it’s been ten/fifteen years since you used to do that shit to get your jollies.” Mikey leaned in and slightly flexed his traps.

Mikey was about an inch taller than Vince and built like a bull, outweighing Vince by about 30 pounds. Vince, though was long, lean, and ripped to pieces – the result of his affinity for martial arts in addition to lifting in his home gym.

Vince flexed his forearms, both sinewy – one covered in the dark auburn hair matching his head and chest (as Mikey would later find out), the other in an ornate, very well done grey-scale tattoo of Coliseum in Rome. Vince then grabbed Mikey by his trap and squeezed it hard, while pulling Mikey toward him until they were touching chest-to-chest.

This caught Mikey completely off-guard and he didn’t have time to react before Vince did this. Vince pulled Mikey’s face toward his, auburn stubble roughly brushing black. Mikey could feel Vince’s hot, wet breath (which smelled a little like whiskey) on his ear as Vince hissed, “Listen fuck face, you do ANYTHING to my little sister, there will be a big problem. Capice?!”

“Yeah whatever fucker, capito,” Mikey sneered as he pushed the smaller, but very strong man away from him. Vince’s posturing didn’t bother Mikey that much, what did bother Mikey was that something started to stir and grow in his pants when Vince’s stubble brushed his and Vince’s lips were millimeters away from his ear when issuing his “threat.” Fuck, must be the fact that I haven’t cum in days, Mikey rationalized, Christ Stephanie better give me some pussy tonight or else I probably would fuck anything looking even remotely female. I ain’t no fanook, and certainly not for that piece of shit Vince.

Vince’s fairish skin (Mrs. Costanzo was half Irish) turned beet red, and he turned toward the inside of the house, yelling, “Stefania, there is some dickhole fanook here to pick you up,” before turning back to Vince, smirking, and folding his arms.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, Mikey barely uttered as he looked past Vince and toward the stairs. Stephanie was dressed to really fucking impress. Mini black dress which hugged her ample tits and every curve of her perky, thick ass, ending right below the bottom of where Mikey knew her panties would be. Beautiful tanned legs leading down to black high heels and a small gold bracelet on her right ankle. Perfect French tip nails on petite hands which Mikey could only imagine gripping his monster cock. And her face, Ma-Don-Na! light make-up and shoulder length, soft, wavy, dark brown hair.

Mikey’s cock filled with blood and snaked down his pant leg, growing to about 8 inches of it’s full 10 inch capacity. “Fuck babe, you look fine as hell!” He mumbled, grinning stupidly at Stephanie.

“Haha, you’re not too bad yourself!”

Vince rolled his eyes as his little sister pushed past him to get to Mikey. Vince also noticed something. Something big and heading due south down Mikey’s pant leg. Vince chuckled softly, without malice this time and gave Mikey a slight nod. Mikey subconsciously caught this, but he couldn’t be sure.

“C’mon Steph, I have a great night for us planned . . . starting with dinner at Carmine’s!”

“Ooh Carmine’s, I love that place,” Stephanie said, as she exited the house, giving Mikey a light kiss on the cheek and and then inserting her slender toned arm through Mikey’s beefy appendage. Looking back at Vince, she said, “Don’t wait up too late” and winked.

As she turned around, Vince pointed at his eyes with his index and middle fingers and then at Mikey. However, the hardness that had been there earlier had diminished, his eyes almost looked like they were laughing a little.

What the fuck is that all about? Mikey thought as he led Stephanie to his truck. Oh who fucking cares, Vince is a weird cat . . . all I want to think about is Stephanie now and, hopefully, getting a little lucky after dinner!

[To be continued]
 
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Chapter 2 Continued

Mikey opened the door of his truck for Stephanie, gentleman that he is, as she arrived at the curb. While she was getting in, he stole a peek at her ass (hey, not a complete gentleman!). Fuck, like two giant melons, Mikey fantasized, slightly licking his lips.

Mikey got in the driver’s seat and smiled at Stephanie, “ready to go, beautiful?”

“Haha, yeah, Mikey, just drive,” Stephanie laughed, giving his thick delt a quick, tender squeeze.

Mikey, too nervous (AND horny) to talk much, kept his eyes on the road and asked Stephanie, “you want any tunes for the drive?”

“Mikey, it’s only like ten minutes to Carmine’s, I’m fine without music.” Stephanie, said, as she reached over with her left hand and lightly scratched the top of Mikey’s giant, right paw with her freshly manicured nails.

Fuck this chick is hot AND cool, Mikey thought. Her nails felt incredible and slightly erotic scratching the back of his hand. As did the thin gold bracelet hanging from her wrist lightly brushing his wrist while she scratched. Damn her perfume smells good, too! Stephanie was wearing a light, slightly floral and citrusy perfume, nothing crazy heavy, and just enough to compliment her natural pheromones perfectly. Mikey sneaked a quick glance at her – she was gazing straight forward, a Mona Lisa smile on her lips. Stephanie’s perfect tits moved slowly in-and-out as she breathed. A thin gold chain with a small cross at the end, nestled between her perfect, natural tits, each the size of a large orange, Mikey fantasized.

Mikey arrived at Carmine’s and pulled the truck into an open spot in the lot. Opening the door again for Stephanie, he had another chance to look at her amazing ass, perfectly framed in her tight, small, black dress.

“See something you like?,” Stephanie teased, looking over her shoulder at Mikey and laughing, flipping her wavy hair a little with her fingernails.

“Uh err uh, well . . .” Mikey stammered.

“It’s ok, I’m just teasing you,” Stephanie said, while rubbing Mikey’s back. “Let’s head inside, I’m starving!”

Fuck this chick is COOL!

Mikey and Stephanie entered the restaurant and were seated by the maître d, an elderly Italian guy from Napoli, Francesco, who had been in Jersey since . . . forever . . . and who still insisted on wearing a tux, even though Carmine’s wasn’t that fancy.

Mikey and Stephanie sat across from each other at the table and ordered their food and wine. Mikey had the saltimbocca (protein bro!) and Stephanie had a big Caesar salad. The wine was the house super Toscana, which tasted perfect to them. Throughout the meal, Mikey sat and listened to Stephanie talk about her life, her graduate studies at Rutgers, her nonna (who was like 95 and still kicking in Florida!), how she loved Jeter and hated A-Rod, et cetera. It was enough for Mikey to just let this smart, beautiful woman carry the conversation. And stare at her plump, sensual lips, and her full, perfect tits as she talked.

Mikey was fully engorged at this point and his thick cock was leaking precum. Thank Christ his jeans were dark! He was ready to go at this point and huskily asked, “Steph, you ready to get outta here?”

“Haha, Mikey,” Stephanie said, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling, “you have something in mind?”

“Uh er, uh, I just thought maybe, uh, we could, um?”

“Don’t be such a goof! Drive me home, I’m ready to go.”

Mikey quickly summoned the waiter and paid the tab, racing to get out of Carmine’s.

Back in his truck, Mikey sped down surface streets to get back to the Costanzo residence. Stephanie was silent for most of the drive, but Mikey knew she was smiling. And he could feel the heat radiating off her skin.

After the longest ten minutes in his recent life, Mikey finally pulled in front of Stephanie’s house. “Uh, shall we go in?” he asked, the lust and testosterone heavy on his voice.

Stephanie just smiled, and held her index finger up to his mouth. “No.”

“Wha . . .?” Mikey plead, his voice heavy with hormonal lust.

“No.” Stephanie moved her perfectly manicured nail down Mikey’s full, sensual lips, pulling his lower lip back from his teeth, before slowing drawing it down his thick neck, teasing his Adam’s Apple, before drawing her finger back toward her, tracing the line between the top of her dress and her tits. Smiling coquettishly at Mikey.

This was too much for Mikey. He grabbed Stephanie by her exposed shoulders with both of his large, calloused mitts, pulling her toward him. Stephanie laughed, clearly enjoying this. Mikey licked her neck, tasting her natural musk mixed with her perfume. He licked her earlobes and she moaned. Then he moved to her mouth, probing inside with his tongue. They kissed deeply for what seemed like ten minutes. Then Mikey cupped her right breast in his huge hand.

Stephanie moaned and allowed Mikey to pull the top of her dress down, her perfect tit popping out of the top, revealing a silver dollar sized, caramel colored nipple. Mike moved his mouth down to her nipple and slowly licked it, eliciting a moan from Stephanie. Her breasts were soft, sweet, and tasted amazing. Mikey’s huge meat was straining his jeans and he was leaking copious amounts of precum at this point.

Mikey moved his other hand up inside Stephanie’s dress, feeling her hot, wet pussy from outside her panties.

“No. Let’s wait,” Stephanie said, pushing Mikey’s hand away from her cunt.

“Wha???” Mikey implored, eyes completely clouded with lust.

“No, I’m not that kind of girl,” Stephanie said, giving Mikey’s enormous meat a quick squeeze. “I need to get inside anyway,” Stephanie said, and gave Mikey one last kiss before opening the door of his truck.

“This was fun. I want to see you again” she said. “See you soon, big guy!” Stephanie winked, got out of the truck and sauntered back to her house.



FUCCCCCCKKKKKKKKK Mikey yelled, hitting his steering wheel. “Christ I am so horny, and she left me blue-balled.” He was very frustrated, but it also left him intrigued by Stephanie. “So, you’re playing a little hard to get, I guess I can manage that.”

But fuck was he horny and the street was dark. Maybe I can get off now, my balls hurt so much, and it’s been days since I’ve cummed, Mikey rationalized. I’ll be quick and no one will see me.

Mikey unzipped his fly and released his cock, now fully 10 inches in length, and seven inches in diameter. He pulled his huge balls out of his boxer briefs as well and gave them a quick squeeze. FU-UH-CK!” Mikey moaned. His balls were so sensitive right now and his massive, beautiful cock was leaking tons of precum.

Mikey took the precum and rubbed the bulbous head of his penis. Perfectly proportioned to the shaft. With his other had he tugged on his balls and rubbed the spot between his balls and his anus while stoking the full length of his shaft. His cock pulsed with every stroke, the soft skin crisscrossed with a myriad of fully filled small veins.

Between his horniness, the fact that he was blue balled, and the fact that he hadn’t cum in days, it didn’t take Mikey long. After a few strokes, his balls pulled back toward him and he shot the first, massive rope of thick cum. This was followed by six more shots, landing all over his tight grey polo shirt, with the first shot even making it to his chin . . . millimeters from his bottom lip, which he was biting as he came.

Holy Christ that’s a lot of cum, Mikey thought as he came back to reality. It was all over his shirt, and partially on his face. I have to get home to clean this shit up. Mikey turned the ignition on and prepared to get his truck back on the road.

As he was leaving the Costanzo house he noticed that the garage door was open and a muscular male figure was highlighted in the dim light. Fuck, did Vince see him, did Vince WATCH him? Mikey panicked and peeled away in his vehicle.

***

Vince closed the garage door and laughed to himself. A thick puddle of cum covered the floor in front of him. Well shit, this is my man cave now, I don’t even have to clean it up if I don’t want to! Vince decided to let it dry naturally and sauntered back into the house. Man, I’m gonna sleep well tonight! He thought to himself. Who would have thought D’Avanzo was so big down ‘there’ too!

***
 
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Thanks for the kind words and likes so far gentlemen. Here is the next installment. I write them as I have time.

Chapter 3

Mikey didn’t get the best night of sleep – tossing and turning and replaying the evening with Stephanie . . . and her weirdo brother, Vince. What the fuck was that perv doing, watching us . . . watching, ME?!

He rolled over and looked at the clock, 07:55. Ok, time to get up. Even though it was the weekend, and Mikey didn’t have to work, his internal clock usually roused him by no later than 06:00 every day.

He threw on a red Nutrishop tank (most of his gym gear was freebie shit from supplement companies), a pair of random sweat shorts, his Chucks, and trucker hat with the Italian flag printed on the front. No reason to shower yet since he was going to lift anyway, with Tony and Nate, in about an hour. The tank looked great on his body, hugging his massive pecs with their dusting of trimmed, thick black chest hair (Mikey usually shaved that completely, but, had been letting it grow out recently). Looking in the mirror, Mikey put on the finishing touch to his look – a thin gold chain around his neck. He grinned at his reflection, full lips pulling to the corner to reveal his white teeth, flashing against the day-old black stubble on his face.

Mikey rumbled down the stairs from his apartment to the driveway next to the main house where Danny and Gina lived. He walked over to their kitchen door, threw it open, and bellowed . . . “Ciao ragazzi! Mikey’s in the house!”

Gina gave him a sideways look as she poured a cup of coffee for herself and Danny, who was sitting at the table using his laptop to make final changes to his Fantasy roster. Gina was in her bathrobe and Danny was wearing the sweatpants and tee he had slept in.

“Mikey, do you always have to be so loud!” Gina scolded, but her eyes were laughing. She had a soft spot for Mikey, even if he could be a big galoot – her nickname for him was, “Wreck it Malph.”

Mikey gave Gina a kiss on the cheek, grabbed the cup of coffee intended for Danny, and took a big swig. Danny, completely engrossed in deciding whether to play Kamara, didn’t even notice.

“BROOOOOOOO!” Mikey yelled, giving Danny’s shoulders a squeeze and pulling-up a chair next to him. “What’s shaking? You looking at Pornhub again?!”

Danny didn’t laugh. Nor did Gina, who rolled her eyes.

“Stop touching me, I need to concentrate!” Danny said, without moving his eyes from the laptop screen. He pushed Mikey’s big paw off his shoulder.

“HA HA HA. Ok, I’ll let dottore Danny concentrate on whatever important shit he has going on,” Mikey laughed. “I gotta go get my swole on with the boys, anyway!” Mikey slapped Danny on the back, winked at Gina, and made his way out of the house.

****

Around 11AM Mikey arrived at the strip mall Golds where he and about 50 percent of the population of Middletown between 18 and 35 worked-out. Tony liked it because of the mirrors, and the opportunities for gym brah selfies. Nate liked it because there was more than one squat rack. Mikey liked it because the weights were heavy, and there was plenty of talent to look at between sets, or to offer lifting advice to. By the time Mikey got there, Tony and Nate were waiting for him in the lobby.

Cugine! You ready to get swole?” Tony boisterously said as he flexed his bicep, giving it a quick kiss. Tony was on the short side, around 5’7”, but he had a killer aesthetic physique and his shredded 170 pounds looked much bigger on his frame with his 30” waste. Tony was dressed head-to-toe in Jed North gear – designer tank, small shorts hugging his thick thighs, and expensive lifting shoes with flat soles (when cheapie Chucks like Mikey’s would do just fine). Tony was an Instagram “Fitness Model” and had enough followers and likes to warrant getting free shit from Jed North. All he and his other Instagram “friends” had to do was post a few shirtless posing pics, some quick “lifting advice” videos, and a couple of shots in a pool or at the beach and it was pure $$$. A random “10 year challenge” or “TBT” picture in the mix didn’t hurt either.

Tony’s body also was completely shaved, which Mikey thought was weird, and had a few strategically placed tatts on his body – Italian flag, prayer hands with rosary beads, the Yankees logo, etc. Like Mikey, he also had barbell piercings in his nipples, unlike Mikey he had both done. He had dark brown hair which was always perfectly blown back above his tight fade. He was perpetually tanned.

“You’re late.” Nate said, scowling and looking at his watch. “You were supposed to be here at 1100 on the dot.” Nate was former military, USMC to be exact, and was anal as hell about being on time. “You know Kate only gives me 2 hours every day . . . and I want to make those worth it!” Kate and Nate had gotten married right out of high school and right before Nate enlisted. They already had three kids – Ronan, Colm, and baby Siobhan. Probably would have six more before they were done with it – Nate’s own Irish little league team.

Nate was wearing a cheap wife beater and basketball shorts. His long sinewy, muscular arms also covered in tatts, mostly Corps stuff, but a few oldies, too – like a Celtic knot. He had bright orange hair and green eyes, his pale skin contrasting against the mostly olive complected (natural or otherwise) skin tone of the majority of the gym denizens.

“What’re we doing today, fellas?” Mikey asked.

“I don’t care as long as we do it NOW.” Nate grumbled.

“Chillax, brothas,” Tony said. “I have a whole swole sesh planned for us. Arms and core. You’ll like it.”

The three friends proceeded to go through their workout, staking out a corner of the gym and making sure no one else could use their weights or benches while they lifted, or shot the shit between sets. Curls. Skull crushers. Wide-grip curls. Tri pull downs. Repeat. Preacher curls. Dips. Inside bi curls. Tri extensions. Repeat. Then core. Bicycle crunches, chair crunches. Planks. Oblique planks. Repeat.

By the time the workout was done, all three guys were sweaty and soaked.

“Ok, posing time!” Tony yelled - making sure that everyone around them could hear. He pulled up the corner of his tank and did a side ab flex in the mirror. “Snap me brah, for tha Insta!” he directed Mikey and Nate.

“No.” Nate said.

“C’mon, man! I need this for my Insta! It’s my side hustle.” Tony pleaded with his buddies.

“Fine.” Mikey sighed, “I’ll do it.” He took Tony’s phone and took the first couple of pictures. Tony sidled-up to him and looked at the phone. His body hot and sweaty, touching Mikey.



“That’s a good one,” he said, scrolling through. “Ok, more!”

Tony peeled his tank completely off, flexed his abs and one arm, making the perfect bicep peak. With his other hand he pulled the front of his shorts down just far enough that you could see just above where his shaft began. “Now! Take this one, Mikey!” Tony commanded.

“Jeee-Sus, you are SUCH a fanook, Tony. Why do you want me to take this one?”

“FOR THA GRAM! This is how I make bank, son!”

“I’m done with this shit,” Nate said, waving his hand dismissively as he walked away. “You can pander to Princess Instagram here. I’m going home. Later.”

“You just don’t appreciate beautiful works of art you stupid Mick,” Tony laughed. Flexing both his biceps in the mirror and sticking out his tongue. “Yeah, you are a big beautiful man, aren’t you” Tony said softly to his reflection.

“I’m also done with this shit, Tony.” Mikey said. “Let’s post it on your “Insta” and leave. I need to eat and get my macros in anyway. What’s your handle?”

“@973_EyeStallion.”

“Youhaftabekiddingme,” Mikey moaned.

“Nope! Love it or leave it, brah! The ladies love it.” Tony said with confidence. “See what I mean?” He gestured with his eyes toward Andrea Giardina, who was sitting on the hip abduction machine with her legs spread open.

Mikey looked over. Andrea made eye contact and did a few reps . . . slowly . . . making sure to spread her yoga-panted-legs as far as they would go.

“Tony, brah, Andrea loves anything with a cock. You know that.”

“Whatevah, man, don’t hate my fans!” Tony grabbed his cock through his shorts and gave it a squeeze.

Mikey thought he heard Andrea moan softly, but it could have been his imagination.

“Anyway, my man, let’s go get some food!” Tony yelled as they left the gym.

{To be continued}
 
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Guest
Chapter 3 Continued.

Mikey and Tony went a few doors down in the strip mall to grab their lunch. A place called, “Build,” which was where all the meatheads went to get overpriced, overcooked, protein on top of brown rice with whatever vegetable build decided to offer that day. All smothered in hot sauce. “Meal planning for when YOU haven’t planned” the banner above the cash register said.

Squeezing into a booth, Mikey said, “So, what do you have going on tonight? Thought we could hit up Carlo’s place in The City, mix it up a little.” Carlo was another high school buddy of theirs who lived in a fifth floor walk-up not too far from the Lincoln Tunnel. He was a trader at Morgan Stanley and liked living in Manhattan, even if a fifth floor walkup was what he could afford . . . even on his salary. More importantly, Carlo liked to PARTY and it was always a BFN (big fuckin night) when they hung out.

“Eh, I’ve got some shit I’ve got to take care of,” Tony said evasively.

“Whaddaya mean you’ve got some shit to take care of? Carlo is our boy and we always have fun with that fool!”

“Just some shit, man.” Tony answered indirectly, shoving protein and broccoli into his mouth.

“Ok, suit yourself, Carlo AND me are gonna party TO-NIGHT, son!” Mikey whooped, pumping his fist in the air. “Enjoy whatever fanookeria you’re getting-up to.”

Tony squirmed in his seat. “Alright brah. See you at the site on Monday.” He held his fist out for a bump. “Good lift today.” Tony got up and left the restaurant.

Fine. I’ll go to the City myself. Mikey huffed. Maybe I’ll get some trim to take my mind off Stephanie, too.

***

When Mikey got home, he decided to check out Tony’s Instagram. It was weird for Tony to not want to go buck wild in NY and Mikey thought maybe it had something to do with his “sponsorships” he always prattled on about.

Mikey saw the pictures from the gym today and opened the first one. #Swole #pump #Italia #pushpull #aestheticlife @jednorth. Were the captions under the first one. Already had 200 likes and it had only been posted about an hour ago. Mikey started scrolling through the comments, looking to see if all the “ladies” Tony bragged about were appreciating his physique. Most of them were from dudes with Insta handles like, @muscluver45 and @sexy_rexy10. WTF, Mikey laughed to himself. So much for all the ladies. A couple of the comments said, “Have you an OF?” Mikey didn’t know what that meant, nor did he really care to find out.

***

Mikey took a quick nap, showered, and got dressed for the night in NY. Tight black tee, dark blue jeans, and brand new white sneaks. He put on his big (fake) gold Rolex he bought last year near Penn Station (unless you looked real close, you couldn’t tell it was fake) and a thin gold chain. He brushed his hands through his thick, black, medium length hair, pulling it back from his forehead. He looked good and was ready for Manhattan.

***

Mikey decided to take the train in to see Carlo. He wanted to have a few that night, and didn’t want the hassle of finding parking, or paying $100 to stow the truck. Carlo had also moved since he saw him last and was close to the Village now.

Arriving at Carlo’s new place around 10PM, Mikey was ready to get a little lit that night! Yeah buddy, it’s been too long since I’ve seen this fool!

Mikey pounded on Carlo’s door, screaming, “LET ME IN, YOU SONOFABITCH!”

The door opened, and instead of Carlo, Mikey was faced with a petite woman, wearing glasses and a black sweater dress, which hugged her body in all the right places. She had milky white skin, straight black hair and plum colored lips. She looked at Mikey through her almond shaped eyes.

“Uh, who are you?” She said, slightly nervous, keeping the door slightly closed.

“Uh, who are YOU?!” Mikey stuttered, his pants feeling slightly tight.

“I’m Iris,” she replied. “ . . . Carlo’s girlfriend?” she said, sounding a bit surprised.

“Iris, let that fanook in! He’s scaring the neighbors,” Carlo boomed from the other room.

Iris opened the door, warming-up slightly to Mikey.

“I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned me!” She chastised Carlo, but her tone was slightly teasing.

“Babe, you know you’re the first thing on my mind, morning, noon, and night,” Carlo said, his thick arm wrapping around Iris’s waist and giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Get in here you piece of shit!” He said to Mikey, “Been way too long bro. And, by the way, this is the chick I was telling you about.” He winked at Mikey.

“Oh yeah, sorry man, that’s right! I just didn’t remember her name!” Mikey recovered, slapping his forehead.

Surrrreee,” Iris teased. “I’ll let you two talk a little bit. I have to finish up some work anyway.”

The rest of the night progressed with Mikey and Carlo catching-up. Carlo talking about the Market, Mikey talking about the douchebags, drawn to NY from Silcon Valley, Des Moines, or where ever, whom he was building new condos for in Hoboken. The two reminisced about high school and Middletown, Iris coming in and snuggling up to Carlo when she was done with work. She was a writer, the first-generation daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, and from Westminster in Orange County, California. She came to Manhattan to go to NYU and had stayed on. Her calm demeanor nicely countered Carlo’s BIG personality.

Many bottles of chianti later, Mikey figured it was time to call it a night. Although it wasn’t the night he was looking for, he was getting older and it was nice to spend time with Carlo and to get to know Iris. As he was walking toward the 14th Street Station, he got a push notification on his phone: “Recent: 973_EyeStallion just shared a post.” It was 1AM, what the fuck was Tony up to, I thought he had shit going on.

Mikey opened Instagram and saw that Tony had posted about twenty minutes ago. A picture of him in a tank top and sweats, backwards Mets hat, in front of a high rise with a cheeky grin. Mikey could see a street sign in the background, “27th Street.” The hashtags read: #NYC #Muscle #Flexx #ComeAtUrBoy #ClubAtlas.

WHAT THE FUCK. THAT CHACH! Mikey stormed. So fuckin busy and he’s here in the City it looks like. AND that fucker is near me!

Mikey opened his GPS app and looked for “Club Atlas” and saw that it was only about a five minute walk from where he was. I’ll show that fuck. Having fun in the club without me, probably with two slutes draped over each arm!”

Mikey was fuming, and the chianti in his system didn’t help either.

Mikey made his way to the location of Club Atlas and saw a line stretching out the door. Booming bass leaking through it each time it opened. Total sausige fest. All dudes in that line. I hope the place is packed with trim inside.

Mikey made his way to the bouncer, a big, tough looking black guy with a shaved head and a scowling face.

“Hey, my man, my buddy is inside and I need to find him!”

“Oooh honey, I have HEARD that one before!” The bouncer said, his sassy voice not matching his tough exterior. “Go ahead in big boy . . . and enjoy yourself! Mmm!” The bouncer let him cut the line and pinched Mikey’s butt as he entered the bar. What tha!” Mikey started, prepared to punch the (now smiling) bouncer in the face.

And then it hit him. This was a gay bar. And not just any gay bar. This was a gay stripper bar! Mikey felt slightly ill and was preparing to leave. That’s when he saw Tony.

Tony was standing on a long bar-like table in the middle of the club wearing nothing but a hot pink thong, his backwards Mets hat, a watch, and high tops. He was flexing and grinding his tight body to the music. Fully aware of how to make each muscle pop and how to catch all of his flattering angles. His entire body was covered in oil, giving it a wet look in the reddish light of the club. Tony grabbed the stripper pole with both hands and slid his body down, grinding to the beat and thrusting his hips.

Mikey stood with his mouth open, transfixed. What the actual fuck! He couldn’t keep his eyes off Tony, both from shock, and what he soon realized from the tightness in his pants, arousal. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK! Mikey screamed to himself, Tony is being a complete fanook, in a fanook bar, and I’m getting hard, Jesus Christ, am I having a nightmare, was something in that chianti?!

Mikey stared at Tony, and then looked down toward his crotch, almost involuntarily. The pouch of Tony’s thong was completely stretched out. His almost fully engorged cock pushing at the thin fabric, so much so that the top part of the skimpy underwear was pulling away from his lower abs. The bar patrons LOVED Tony and were shoving dollar bills in the thong. Tony was laughing, flexing, and leaning down to give some of them a kiss on the cheek.

As he was standing back up after giving an older guy a peck on the cheek he locked eyes with Mikey. His eyes grew wide and he jumped off the bar.

Mikey raced for the door and threw it open.

“Mikey, wait, I can explain, cugine!” He yelled after Mikey.

Mikey sprinted away, not wanting to talk to Tony right now. Especially after what he had just seen. And more specifically, after what had happened to Mikey’s cock after seeing Tony gyrate on stage with his massive member, looking huge on his short frame.
 
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Last part of Chapter 3, sorry it was a long one. I'll get to Chapter 4 next week - promise it will have some action in it, and maybe not with who you'd expect!

Chapter 3 Continued

Mikey started on his way to Penn Station, just wanting to get home, and away from all that had happened during the past hour.

Shit, it’s close to 02:30 now, the last North Jersey Coast train left at 1. Damn, stuck with the drunks and bums until the first morning southbound NJ Transit started running again Sunday morning, Mikey stewed.

Mikey put his hands in his pockets and walked north toward the direction of Penn Station.

“Mikey, wait, come back here bro, I just want to talk to you! Cugine!” Tony called out from behind him, the despair evident in his voice.

“WHAT?!” Mikey said, turning around and glaring at Tony as Tony caught up to him. “WHAT do you have to tell me?”

“Mikey, bro…”

“Don’t ‘bro’ me, BRO.” Mikey growled. “I got quite the eyeful back there and don’t want to talk about it.”

“Brother, please hear me out, you owe me, we’ve known each other since third grade, we. are. boys!”

“Fine. Make it quick. I want to get back to Jersey.”

“Not here, not on the street.”

“Ha! So you have no problem slinging your cazzo around in a room full of old queers, but you’re suddenly shy?! That’s rich!” Mikey whispered harshly, eyes darting around to see if anyone else on the street was paying attention (they were not, this was Manhattan and no one cared). After all Mikey was no fanook.

“It’s, it’s not really like that. C’mon let’s get a coffee and talk,” Tony said. “There’s an all-night diner right around the corner we can go to.”

Tony was distressed and Mikey wasn’t completely heartless. “Fine, one coffee. Then I’m outta here.”

Tony relaxed as they entered the diner and seated themselves at a quiet booth in the corner. The tired looking Dominican waitress came over and said, “Together or separate?”.

Mikey blurted out, “SEPARATE! NOT together.”

Both the waitress and Tony rolled their eyes.

“Ok Mr. Sep-A-Rate, whatyouhaving?” The waitress asked, clearly not in the mood for whatever nonsense these assholes were up to.

“Coffee. Black. NOTHING sweet.” Mikey said, avoiding eye contact with both the waitress and Tony.

“Ok, you?” She asked Tony.

“Just a coffee, also black, but I like a little sugar in mine if ya know what I mean,” he winked at the waitress while Mikey turned bright red.

“Whatever papi,” the waitress said and turned away to get the coffee.

“Tonyyurrembarassingme” Mikey hissed through his teeth, “stopit!”

Tony sighed. “Just trying to flirt a little, Mikey.”

Mikey’s eyes widened.

“Relax. Not with you,” Tony said and looked up at the ceiling.

“So you gonna tell me what you were doing in a gay bar prancing around with your . . .” Mikey motioned with both hands in the direction of Tony’s crotch, “. . . out. And to top it off, in a Mets hat, I thought it was all Yankees all day with you bro!”

Tony started to laugh, and his laughter infected Mikey – the fact that the Mets hat was one of the things that set Mikey off was too funny to ignore. This broke the ice.

“Yeah, so, it’s a long story,” Tony started. “You know that Insta I have?”

“Yeahhh . . .”

“Well, I get all kinds of people DMing me on it, and I mean all kinds of people,” Tony pulled a face while he said this.

“So I saw, @muscluver45?”

“HA! Yeah, all kinds of people like that. Anyways, some of these people offer me gigs, like the one you saw tonight. And these gigs pay $$$. And you know construction don’t pay that good all the time. And you know I got expensive tastes and have a certain lifestyle to maintain,” Tony chuckled and brushed his shoulder.

“Yeah, by lifestyle you mean joining the frequent flyer club at ‘Miami Skin,’ and buying a bunch of supps for the gym?” Mikey teased.

“Yeah buddy, don’t hate!” Tony flashed his perfect smile and jokingly flexed one bicep. “Anyway, it ain’t so bad, all I have to do is dance, and the other guys dancing there are pretty cool dudes, too, well, mostly.”

“That’s all you do?” Mikey asked.

“Yeah, whaddayamean,” Tony stuttered.

“I mean, I saw your monster hog at almost full mast swinging around, seemed like you liked what you were doing,” Mikey said under his voice.

Tony blushed. “You saw that?”

Mikey nodded.

“And you think it’s a monster, eh?” Tony teased, a smile creeping across his face.

“Uh well, uh.”

“Well, you should know, bro, you are KING dong!” Tony laughingly said.

Mikey blushed, but he also chuckled, shyly making eye contact with Tony.

Something changed in Tony’s eyes, it reminded Mikey of what he looked like when he was talking about some dime piece chick from the gym.

“Uh, Tony?”

“Yeah Mikey?” Tony said softly, as his dark chocolate brown eyes drilled into Mikey’s hazel ones.

“Umm”

“Did you like what you saw?” Tony whispered, a very risky question.

“Uhh, er,” Mikey squirmed.

“That’s not a “no,” bro.” Tony said.

“Well, uh, it was really big. I was kinda surprised, I mean, I’ve seen it before, but not like that,” Mikey whispered, making a ‘ruler’ gesture with his fingers.

Tony laughed sexily. “Yeah, the ladies seem to love it.”

“Anyway, I should get to Penn Station, it’s 4AM and I can get my train soon.” Mikey said, breaking the tension.

“Alright bro, coffee is on me, since I made BANK TO-NIGHT son, WUT, WUT!” Tony whooped into the quietish diner. The two other patrons there glared at him and the waitress came over, annoyed, with the bill.

“I’ll walk with you to Penn, I’m glad we cleared the air a little, man,” Tony said to Mikey.

“Yeah, if you’re ok with how you do your side hustle, I guess I am too,” Mikey sighed. “We are NOT telling anyone on the construction crew about this, though!”

“Haha, hell NO!” Tony said.

Penn Station was a few blocks away from the diner and they started walking.

“Hey Mikey . . .”

“Yeah, Tony?”

“I wanna show you something on my phone.”

“Huh?”

“Come over here, not on 8th Avenue.”

“Fine.”

Tony led Mikey down a side street, and into an alcove behind some scaffolding.

“WHAT are you going to show me, and WHY are you showing me this here? Is it some fanook shit?” Mikey demanded.

Tony grabbed the front of Mikey’s shirt in a fist and pulled the larger man’s body until it was touching his.

“WHa???” Mikey started, clearly surprised by what Tony was doing, and the strength with which he was doing it.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tony whispered, and pulled Mikey’s face toward his. He parted his lips and his tongue darted out, into Mikey’s mouth, still open with surprise. Mikey didn’t do anything for a minute, and then, almost by reflex, he started kissing Tony back. Their tongues intertwined and he tasted Tony’s breath, now minty (bastard must have gum!). Tony had exceptionally soft lips (probably from all that chapstick he used) and was a very good kisser.

Mikey’s mind was swimming at this point. WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE DOING. WHY THE FUCK AM I KISSING MY BOY. WHY THE FUCK AM I GETTING HARD?

Mikey wasn’t the only one hard at this point. Tony was fully erect and his massive, thick cock was tenting his sweatpants fully. Mikey could feel Tony’s cock rubbing against his own fully engorged member.

Fuuuuuck. Why does this feel so good and hot? It must be the chianti, I ain’t no homo, this is my boy, Tony!

Tony broke the kiss. “Damn, boy, you are a fucking GREAT kisser!” Tony said, his eyes clouded with lust. “Fuck, look how hard you made me” he said as he grabbed his rod through his sweatpants, biting his lower lip.

“I um, uh, I gotta go!” Mikey stammered, pulling his tee shirt down lower to conceal his boner. “My train.”

“Mikey, wait, man, I was just busting your balls” Tony said, clearly frustrated.

“I gotta go. TRAIN.” Mikey said, turning and jogging toward Penn Station.

“Damn bro,” Tony sighed, looked at his phone, and walked the other way.
 
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This entry is LONG, I apologize for that, it just didn't seem to break well for division-sake. Chapter 4 in its entirety follows below. I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 4

Mikey made it to Penn Station in time to catch the first, early morning southbound NJ Coast train to Middletown.

He boarded the train, both groggy from lack of sleep, and wired from the experience with Tony, which he kept replaying in his head. What the actual fuck happened? Mikey mused – embarrassed, confused . . . aroused. Fuck, Tony? My boy? Fuck . . .

Mikey folded his arms and leaned toward the window of the train, at first seeing just his reflection in the glass, the background the inky black of the tunnel. The train rose from the depths and the black was replaced by the heavy, grey, humid morning air of summertime North Jersey. The air matched the low-slung, (also) heavy, dank grey buildings of Newark.

Mikey finally got back to his place around 830 AM Sunday morning and rumbled up the stairs to his apartment. He stripped off his clothes, with the exception of his black boxer briefs, and fell into his bed.

***

Around 2PM, Mikey roused himself from his fitful slumber, his dreams lucid and erotic. Images of Stephanie had filtered through his head, her tight, wet pussy just beyond reach. Then Tony, and his massive hard cock rubbing up against Mikey’s leg.

For fuck’s sake! Mikey said to himself angrily as the image of Tony caused him to awaken, What the fuck is wrong with me! Little Mikey also was fully awake, painfully so, his head engorged and poking out of the bottom of Mikey’s boxer briefs.

I need some pussy, and I need it NOW. Mikey said to himself. Put this fanook shit to bed where it belongs, I’m a real fuckin’ man, not some ‘mo who’s queer for his buddy.

I’m going to see Stephanie, I don’t care if she doesn’t know I’m coming – that’s romantic and shit, right?!

Mikey took little to convince himself that this was a good (with a capital, “G”) plan. He showered, threw on a plain grey vee-neck tee and jeans, sprayed a little cologne, and he was ready to go. Even though his face was a little haggard from lack of sleep, he still looked like The Man. He looked in the mirror, pointed at himself with both index fingers, winked, and walked out the door. Yeah buddy, I’m going to make Stephanie BEG for this sausige to-DAY, son!

***

Mikey drove over to the Costanzo residence, his cock at half mast the entire time. Ok, bro, take it easy, don’t be a perv, don’t scare Stephanie away, don’t make her think you’re thirsty, play it cool, make her come to you, he repeated over and over in his head, his mantra of non-douche-baggery.

Mikey arrived at the Constanzo’s, a portrait of calm and collectedness, only his sweaty palms and slightly engorged member threatened to expose his true mental state. He walked to the front door and rang the bell, wiping his hands on his pants to eliminate the sweat. No answer. Mikey swayed back and forth and rang the bell again. Still no answer.

From the garage on the side of the house, a deep voice yelled, “D’Avanzo, what the fuck do you want?”

Vince emerged from the garage, sweaty and pumped. He had been working out in his home gym and was all amped-up, testosterone flowing and in a fully anabolic state.

Mikey stared at Vince. “Uh, well, umm, I uh.”

“Spit it out, cocksucker, what are you doing here?”

Mikey puffed out his chest. “I came to see Stephanie.”

“Oh really?” Vince smirked. “Why.” It was more an affirmative than a question.

“Because . . .”

“I’m waiting.”

“Because I wanted to see if she wanted to go to the movies.” Mikey lamely responded.

Vince snorted. “Sure.”

Mikey blushed.

“Well, she ain’t here, bro. She went down to Philly to see her girl Cara B.”

“When will she be back?”

“I don’t know, whaddaIlooklike, her fuckin’ keeper?!” Vince snapped.

Mikey stared back at him.

“Well, I kinda am,” Vince said, looking sideways, “gotta protect my little sis from cocksuckers like YOU.” He jabbed his index finger into Mikey’s chest when saying this, but it was more for show than anything else.

Mikey shoved Vince back lightly, “Listen bro, I don’t want to start anything with you, like I said, I just wanted to see if Steph wanted to go to the movies.”

Vince snorted again. “Well, it ain’t gonna be today, cugine.”

“Fine. I’m leaving, then.”

“Wait.” Vince said. “I’m working chest today and need a spot.”

“Huh?” Mikey said, raising an eyebrow.

“I need a fuckin’ spot. Can you do that, or are you too much of a dick to help out?”

“Fine. I’ll spot you for one set.” Mikey replied.

“Good, come with me to the garage.” Vince said and turned away from Mikey, his tight, firm butt cheeks on full display in his grey sweatpants.

Mikey reflexively looked at Vince’s ass. Damn . . . I mean what the fuck. Mikey thought, as he watched Vince walk toward the garage.

Vince entered the garage first and turned toward Mikey. Vince then griped the bottom of his damp, white wifebeater and began pulling it off his tight, ripped, torso. Revealing eight sculpted abdominals and obliques which looked like they were carved from stone. Vince’s body was covered with a dusting of brown hair, slightly darker than the auburn hair on his head. One side of his torso was covered in intricate South East Asian-design tattoos, a relic of when he went to Bangkok to train and fight Muay Thai. His eyes met Mikey’s and he grinned, not a menacing grin, rather, something else. Vince threw his wife beater on the ground.

“Ok fucker, spot me.” Vince said, sitting on the bench and leaning back immediately thereafter, his movements fluid and coordinated. The bench press was loaded at around 185 pounds (or 85 kgs as Vince referred to his set), heavy, but not “impressive” to certain gym bros.

Mikey straddled Vince, his legs spread across the back of the bench, his crotch almost exactly above Vince’s head. Vince pounded out an initial set of 12 reps with little problem, his chest pumping and striating with each movement. After about 60 seconds, Vince was ready to go again. This time a set of 10, followed by one of 8, and then one of 6.

“Thanks, man.” Vince said to Mikey, meeting his eyes as he got off the bench, his body covered with a coat of glistening sweat. “’Preciate the assist.”

“Well, the weight wasn’t that heavy, you seemed to be ok on your own.” Mikey said.

“Ha. Whatever bro. Smaller weights and lots of reps give you this,” Vince said, moving into a Most Muscular pose.

Both Mikey and Vince laughed at this.

“You wanna come in and chill out for a minute?” Vince asked Mikey. “I want to know what your intentions are regarding Stefania.”

“Ha, sure, why not” Mikey replied. Vince was weird, but maybe he could build some goodwill vis-à-vis his smokeshow sister.

“I always like to have a little smoke after getting my pump, it lets my muscles relax, helps with recovery,” Vince said from the kitchen as Mikey settled into the worn, brown leather recliner in the Costanzo living room. “You mind?”

“Dude, not really my thing, but you do you,” Mikey replied.

Vince came back into the room with a vape, “It’s just a little low content THC, bro, and it’s a vape pen, no big deal. My doctor prescribed it, too.”

Mikey looked at Vince, not fully convinced. Vince just chuckled and took a few hits off the vape pen, starting to relax fully.

“You wanna watch some MMA?” Vince asked Mikey.

“Sure, why not.”

Vince turned the television on and started streaming a fight, explaining the different moves and techniques to a slightly disinterested Mikey.

“You sure you don’t want a little hit?” Vince asked, his eyes looking directly into Mikey’s. “It’s good for recovery after a lift.”

“Fine, I’ll try it – maybe it will help me appreciate MMA more, ha!” Mikey responded.

“Come and get it then, I’m not your servant,” Vince laughed.

“Ha, ok.”

Mikey moved off the recliner and sat next to Vince on the couch.

“How do I do this?”

“Here.” Vince said, moving the pen to Mikey’s mouth, “just take a small hit.”

Mikey took a small hit from the vape and started to relax, his legs spreading apart and his knee touching Vince’s. Neither Mikey nor Vince moved their legs, Vince chattered on and on about the fight and the different techniques being used by the fighters, occasionally slapping his palm on Mikey’s thigh when a particularly skillful move was employed on the screen or when he wanted to emphasize a particular point.

This went on for a while and both men felt a little buzzed. Finally, Vince let his hand remain on Mikey’s thigh, fingers pointed in, and not too far from his crotch, as they watched the next match.

“Uh, Vince?” Mikey said, realizing the hand hadn’t moved.

“Yeah, Mikey?” Vince said.

“Dude, your HAND is near my DICK.” Mikey said, and laughed.

“So it is, bro!” Vince laughed and met Mikey’s eyes. “Sorry ‘bout that, haha!”

Vince didn’t move his hand.

“Uh, VINCE.”

“Oh yeah, sorry my man,” Vince slowly moved his hand down Mikey’s thick quad toward his knee before removing it entirely.

Mikey sighed and moved back into the couch, instinctively placing his arm on the back of the upright cushion directly behind Vince.

While Mikey may not have noticed this cue, Vince certainly did.

“Dude, you’ve got the wrestling skills for MMA, but, I’m not sure you have the martial arts abilities.” Vince said off-handedly, not moving his eyes from the television screen.

“HA, I’d be KING at this shit,” Mikey retorted.

“Oh yeah? How would you get a guy off of you if he’s got you in a pin from above?” Vince asked.

“Easy, I’d flip him and pin him, duh, bro,” Mikey responded, bemused.

“What I’m talking about ain’t that easy,” Vince said.

“Whaddaya mean?” Mikey asked, “sounds pretty basic to me.”

“Let me show you,” Vince responded.

“Huh?”

“Let me show you tough guy, you think this is so basic and easy.”

“Ha. Fine, I’ll ruin you bro, all day E’ER day!”

“Lie on the ground, on your back,” Vince commanded.

Mikey complied, chuckling to himself, this will be a piece of fuckin’ cake.

Vince straddled Mikey, one hand pushing down on his forearm, the other on his opposing shoulder, one knee on his inner thigh, the other leg straight out and locked, his foot acting as the anchor.

“Flip me.” Vince commanded.

Mikey strained his entire body, trying to get Vince off of him.

“I said FLIP ME, pussy!” Vince yelled, adjusting his stance every time Mikey moved.

Mikey couldn’t move Vince off of him, exhausting himself as he tried.

Finally Mikey said, “bro, this is stupid, let me up.”

Vince looked down and Mikey’s crotch, noting his full erection, “Someone else doesn’t think this is so stupid.” He moved his hand down to the outside of Mikey’s jeans and squeezed his massive erection.

“DUDE, STOP THAT!” Mikey protested. “It’s not because of you, it’s just . . . because!”

Vince laughed.

“Because what? Wait, don’t answer that. We can just be bros helping bros, if you know what I mean.” Vince said, slowly rubbing Mikey’s turgid dick through his jeans.

Mikey moaned, “Dude, stoppppp it.”


“You sure don’t sound like you want me to stop,” Vince said, finding the zipper on Mikey’s jeans and slowly unzipping.

“Brahh, I don’t . . .” Mikey said thickly

Vince unzipped Mikey’s pants fully and pulled them down to his knees, leaving his engorged cock covered by his boxer briefs.

Mikey was silent, other than his heavy breathing.

Vince took this as a good sign and pulled Mikey’s boxer briefs down, while at the same time pushing Mikey’s shirt up toward his chest, exposing his thick abs. Vince gripped Mikey’s thick shaft with one calloused hand and moaned, “mama mia, that’s a fuckin’ piece, Mikey, I had no idea. Def a job for TWO hands.”

Both Mikey and Vince laughed slightly at this comment.

Vince began stroking Mikey’s meat with both hands twisting softly on his shaft and playing with his balls. Mikey closed his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to just enjoy the feeling and not think too much about who was responsible for it.

Vince licked the head of Mikey’s cock while he stroked the shaft.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING, VINCE?!” Mikey said, his lustful stupor interrupted.

“Brah, just bros helping bros,” Vince responded, as he continued to stroke, giving Mikey’s cockhead a quick kiss, “remember?”.

Mikey was feeling pretty damn good at this point. Fuck it. If perv Vince wanted to suck his cock, so be it, it ain’t like I gotta do anything to him.

Vince took Mikey’s silence as a cue to continue. Taking more and more of Mikey’s monster cock into his mouth and flicking his tongue around the head.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Mikey moaned, getting close. He grabbed the back of Vince’s head, gripping his thick auburn hair, “don’t stop, dude!”

Vince increased his pace. Sucking, stroking, and playing with Mikey’s balls (which were now tightening toward his body).

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna bust you fukin’ putana!” Mikey hissed, both hands gripping the back of Vince’s head.

Vince kept sucking and moved one hand to the spot between Mikey’s balls and asshole, giving it a firm but gentle press.

“SHIIIIITTTTTTT, I’m fucking cumming!” Mikey screamed, load after load after load squirting into Vince’s mouth. Mikey came hard and with volume, the excess cum running out of Vince’s mouth and running down his thick neck and hitting his ripped chest.

Oh shit, Vince is SWALLOWING my cum! Mikey realized, as Vince took as much of Mikey’s load as he could. Jesus, that’s the first time ANYONE has done that to me!

With Mikey’s massive cum finished, Vince stood up from his crotch. “My turn,” he said, his vascular, full cock fully engorged and at a 45 degree angle to his body, a clear drip of precum dangling from his slit about 6 inches down.

“Whaaa?” Mikey said, spent and getting back to reality.

“Relax, bro, you don’t have to do anything.” Vince responded, “Unless you want to!”

“Errr.”

“Just lemme cum, can I cum on you?” Vince asked, slightly annoyed.

“Uh, I guess, maybe on my chest, just not on my face,” Mikey responded.

Vince started jacking his cock, faster and faster, bringing himself to orgasm within thirty seconds. The first thick, milky white jet shot out of his cock and went over Mikey’s shoulder, hitting the floor. The next two similarly did. The fourth jet hit Mikey’s thick chest, and Mikey was surprised at how warm it was. The final two landed on Mikey’s taut abs.

Vince stood above Mikey, his eyes closed and breathing heavily, one hand locked around his still turgid cock, in a death grip. Mikey dared to look down at his body and noted that it was covered in Vince’s cum. What the fuck! Mikey thought, coming back to reality, “flight mode” kicking in.

Mikey extracted himself from under Vince, doing a crabwalk to get away. Shit, I need to get this OFF me STAT.

Vince fell back on to the couch, sighing in pleasure, a smile on his face and his cheeks flushed. “Dammnnnn that was good,” he moaned and laughed.

Mikey was moving toward the kitchen, desperately looking for something, anything, to wipe the cum off his body. All he wanted to do at this point was to get cleaned up and to get THE FUCK out of there.

Mikey found some paper towels and wiped the cum off his chest and abs, he grabbed his shirt, pulled up his pants, and made his way to the door.

Vince half noticed, completely relaxed, a combination of post-sex and a little high remaining from the vape.

“You outta here, bro?” He languidly asked from the couch.

“Uh, yeah, man, that was . . .” Mikey responded.

“Bros helping bros, man. No big deal.” Vince replied, looking at the television, a new MMA match just beginning. “No big deal at all.”

Mikey exited the Costanzo house, still in a daze after what had just transpired. The only clear thought that came to mind was, Man, Vince is FUCKING WEIRD…