Tom daley's new plan (m/m, fantasy, real person slash, serial)

[LawrenceJ]

“And that’s why I love enjoying a big juicy carrot, at least once a week!” said the young man, putting down the juicer on his spotless kitchen worktop and finishing with a big wink to the camera. “Check out my next video in a few days’ time, and don’t forget to subscribe to my channel, my Instagram and my Twitter feed. Remember, whoever you are, you can get a super-fit body if you really want – and I know you want it.” There was a long pause, and then the whole studio set dissolved into bustle and noise as runners moved in to disassemble it.

“That’s a wrap, Tom,” said the man behind the camera, stepping forward to shake him by the hand. “Another month of online content locked down and ready to upload.”

Tom Daley, British Olympian and all-round nice guy, beamed and shook the older man’s hand with all the freshness of a man who had just finished recording half an hour of material, not the eight hours they had just achieved. “Thanks, Chris,” he said. “It’s always a pleasure shooting with you.”

You’re telling me, Chris Jones thought. “You can go and get dressed if want to, now, Tom.” He tried not to sound remorseful at the prospect. How much pleasure he had had today, just staring at the 23-year-old athlete in his diving trunks, the trim physique, ripped abs and hard little pecs that begged to be touched. Not to mention the material clinging to his cute little bulge. All in the name of work.

“Good-oh,” said Tom. “I’d forgotten I was in the altogether – just feels so flipping natural to be wearing this.”

“Believe me, if I looked like you, I’d never put my shirt on,” said Chris, laughing to disguise the honesty of his remark.

“That’s so sweet of you,” said Tom, with a shy smile. “You’re no stranger to the gym, though, mister.”

“You noticed?” Chris folded his muscled arms shyly over his barrel chest. “I guess it’s somewhere to go and let off stress, but I’m not serious about it.”

“Really? I have to say, I sometimes wish my body was more like yours,” said the young man unexpectedly. “You know – the blooming size of you. I mean, obviously, I need to be pretty lithe to compete, but I feel pretty flipping… weedy. Sometimes.”

Chris shook his head. “You’re in incredible shape, Tom. You know that.”

“But sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be big. Really big. I mean – can I feel your bicep a minute?” said Tom, reaching out.

Chris took a step backwards. “What, here?”

“I’m not saying you get your shirt off or anything,” said the young man, idly rubbing his jaw, eyes averted. “Unless you want to.”

“Well, it’s just… if someone should mention to Dustin about it –”

Tom put his hands on his hips and laughed. “Come on, my career is built around my body. My hubby totally understands if I – focus on it, sometimes. With professionals.”

Chris wondered about that. There had been rumours since January of Tom’s Snapchat conversations with hot gay fans. Nothing had actually surfaced, no matter how much Chris Googled. Dustin and Tom had laughed it all off in the papers, but nobody really knew what went on in their relationship – and then they had gotten married, as according to the plan, and everything had gone quiet. Some people had even accused Tom of leaking the sex videos himself to boost his brand. Whichever way the story was read, everybody had sussed now that the butter-wouldn’t-melt star of British Olympic diving was far from as innocent as he appeared.

And Chris had sometimes wondered if there was some special reason Tom had selected him to make the Don’t Quit Till You’re Fit videos for his YouTube channel. Was it coincidence that Chris was gay, unattached and – according to his Grindr profile – a ‘hungdaddy4u’.

“Well, let’s go back to your dressing room,” he said, hoping his big hard-on wasn’t too much on display. “We can firm up our next shooting dates.”

Tom shrugged as if they were talking about nothing but that. Perhaps they were. When they got into the confined space of his dressing room, though, he looked rather more serious, and he took care to lock the door after them.

 

[LawrenceJ]

“Come on, then,” he said. “Down to your briefs. What’s good for the chicken is good for the daddy, or flipping something like that.”

He watched while Chris stripped, slowly, down to his Calvin’s. It was hard to read his expression but he looked appreciative. He bit his lower lip as Chris threw his Levi’s into the corner.

“How flipping old are you again? Because you look incredible.”

“I’m only forty-eight, young man,” said Chris, with a laugh. “You don’t need to patronise me.”

“Of course not,” said Tom, looking away shyly. “Come on, then. Let’s compare.”

“Well, I’m a foot taller than you for a start.”

“Pull a ‘most muscular’ though,” said Tom. “We’ll compare triceps first.”

“Like this?” said Chris.

“Whoa. Your shoulders are… flipping giant. Check me out.”

Chris looked him over. “Cute, little bro.”

“Yeah, I get it. Mate, your arms look three times the size of mine. The forearms, everything.”

“Let’s compare biceps, then. Front Double Biceps, pose.”

“Like that?” Tom struck a pose and his little biceps popped up.

“Sort of. More at ninety degrees, with then turn your hands inward, like this…” Chris had done this a million times in the gym mirror after a workout. He wished he was as pumped now as he was then. Only his dick was as engorged as he wanted it to be. He noticed Tom was practically salivating as he stepped closer and compared his solid little muscles with Chris’s less ripped but mountainous peaks.

“Oh, I really am pretty little, aren’t I…”

“Well, you probably need that when you’re competing, like you say,” said Chris. He took a gamble and reached out, resting a big brotherly hand on the younger man’s shoulder. Tom’s eyeline raised and they looked at one another with quiet, naked honesty. Or semi-naked, at any rate.

“My diving career is nearly done,” said Tom. “It’s everything around it that I need to build up now. And the gymnasts are coming up behind me with proper blooming muscular physiques.”

Chris couldn’t deny that he was an ardent follower of Max Witlock’s Instagram and his somewhat stronger physique next to Tom’s. Even some of Tom’s fellow divers, like Chris Mears, were more top-shelf material, and weren’t burdened by Tom’s nice-guy persona. “You can get big pretty quick,” he said. “It just takes a little time and maybe a little help.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Tom. “That’s why I have this.” He went to his kitbag and pulled out a jiffy bag, and from it, a small plastic jar. “It’s from the States,” he says. “Jack Zefron put me onto it. Totally herbal and for the time being, legal.”

The label on the jar simply read, ‘SWELL!’ Chris scanned the ingredients list, screwed the lid off and gave it a sniff. It smelled of sandalwood and leather. For some reason, Chris’s dick hardened at the scent. “Steroids, Tom?”

“Nothing like that,” said the young man, wide-eyed. “It’s totally legitimate, just gives you a boost.”

“You’re sure you need a boost?”

“That’s why I brought you back here, Chris. To show you how much I need it.”

Chris sighed. “I see,” he said. “And so that I don’t ask any difficult questions when we film next month, I suppose.”

“Well,” said Tom, coyly, “I suppose there was one other reason I got you in here.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I need someone to apply it,” said the young athlete. With that, he double checked the door, stuck his thumbs in his shorts, and hauled them down in one smooth move.

 

[LawrenceJ]

The stuff in the jar was the consistency of olive oil. Chris had to be careful. He dribbled a little into his right palm, then started massaging it right away into Tom’s arms. Tom looked at him warily the whole time, as if wondering what would transpire. The stuff warmed as he worked it, and he could feel his skin tingling as he massaged it into the young man’s forearms, underarms, shoulders, neck and throat. With a playful gesture he finished on Tom’s chin.

“Feels nice!” said Tom, unsmiling.

“I bet,” said Chris. “You want it on your pecs?”

“Flipping heck, yeah,” said Tom, putting his hands on his hips again and welcoming the older man’s oiled caress. The muscle was firm beneath his touch, the nipples soft yet hard at the same time. He swept down the young man’s abs to his hips, till the whole of the athlete’s torso glistened.

“Anywhere else?” he said.

“Everywhere,” said Tom.

Chris raised his eyebrows. Tom’s gaze was unwavering and serious.

“To be sure of it working,” he said. “That’s what Jack told me.”

Chris massaged the oils between his own palms before continuing. Two firm sweeps down Tom’s back, down to his arse cheeks, oiling them up too, and then the thighs, lightly furred with young dark hairs. He worked his thumb up briefly into Tom’s arse-crack and felt the musculature shudder with pleasure.

When Tom turned around, his small but perfectly-formed dick stood hard out in front of him. Chris made sure to massage plenty of oil into that, but didn’t linger on it overlong. There was a businesslike tone to the whole operation.

When he was done, the young diver gleamed as if he had not long been out of the water, except for his dry hair. Chris’s big chunky cock was forcing its way out of the leg-hole of his Calvin’s and dribbling precum down his thigh, but the pair of them ignored it.

“Cheers,” said Tom, stepping away from the older man to show that their business together was over and done. “I dunno if it’ll even work for me. I guess we’ll find out at next month’s shoot.”

“Right,” said Chris, his mind reeling. “Okay. Looking forward to it.” He adjusted his hard-on and looked for his clothes. What just happened here?

“Don’t tell a soul,” said Tom. “Or my career, at least, will be over.”

Chris smiled, as he stepped back into his jeans and buckled them around his waist. “Whatever you say, young man,” he said. It’ll be a miracle, he thought, if that magic baby lotion does anything more than moisture that beautiful tanned body of his.

But Chris was wrong, as he was to find out – wronger, sooner, and more enjoyably than he could ever have imagined.



TO BE CONTINUED

 

[LawrenceJ]

The text message arrived two weeks’ later. ‘Hey Chris, Thanks again for all your hard work on the YouTube series. Can we meet sometime to discuss future episodes?’

Chris’ first thought was: oh shit, he wants to switch to a new director. Why not go through the normal channels, otherwise? We’ve had a process for the past year or so, and the dates are already set up. What’s changed?

I should never have agreed to go in that dressing room with him alone. I encouraged him to use some sort of cranky online serum. Dustin Lance Black’s found out I basically massaged his husband’s hard cock with my bare hands. Even though nothing came of it.

Unless…

Maybe that was the other option. Maybe that was just a precursor to something serious. Maybe Tom wanted to test how much Chris fancied him. Maybe they were going to a hotel room somewhere, where Chris was going to spear Tom’s tight little arse with his 8” daddy dick.

Caught in the world of not-knowing, Chris texted back a cheery agreement and they agreed some time on that coming Thursday evening for drinks in Soho. Just to be on the safe side, Chris headed to his gym in Hackney that afternoon for a work-out so he would arrive at the meeting looking pumped and fit.

In spite of his self-doubts, the content producer found himself feeling pretty good. For some reason, his hands and wrists were feeling particular big and strong today, and his grip on weights and pull-up bars was firmer than he had ever known it. He felt like he could lift, pull and swing heavier and better than usual and that small difference lifted his spirits.

Afterward, Chris went and sat in the sauna, taking off his glasses, lying back and relaxing in the near-suffocating heat of the steam room. He stroked his hard cock through his towel, thinking of Tom’s hard little prick slathered in oils that smelled of leather and herbs.

Another gym-goer caught his eye, a big guy with short, dark hair and thick, defined musculature. Chris didn’t recognise him but the sight of that body, like something off a Men’s Health cover, made pre-cum well up suddenly within the towel’s crisp white folds. With the subtlest look, Chris invited him over. The younger guy looked, over-cautiously, to right and left, before joining Chris in the hot steam, sitting beside him on the bench and running a hand over his chest. Chris reciprocated by massaging one of the young guy’s big, solid pecs and caressing the nipple with his thumb. The young guy worked his hand down Chris’s belly and into his towel. His hand grasped Chris’s hard dick. Chris could feel the guy’s wedding ring on his shaft.

“Not here,” he said.

“Flip, sorry,” said the other man, letting go. Chris seemed to recognise the voice, which was bizarre given how unfamiliar the physique was. Maybe it was someone off the TV?

 

[LawrenceJ]

Whatever, Chris led the other guy at some distance back to the showers, where he slung his towel over a cubicle door. He knew this place was secure and safe. He wiped the steam from his lenses and slipped his glasses back onto his face.

The stranger rounded the corner, still looking nervously about. His face was sort of familiar too, now that Chris could see clearly. He was a dead ringer for –

“T-Tom..?!”

“You didn’t recognise me?” The young athlete’s eyes were wide. “I couldn’t tell how much I’d changed…”

“But that’s im-impossible…”

“Isn’t it great?”

“You look – your shoulders – your chest – your arms – you’re just so –”

“Big,” said Tom, pulling the same series of poses they had struck for each other in his dressing room a fortnight before. “I’m big. And it feels fucking good.” He clapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh -- sorry for swearing. It’s a chemical thing, I think. Heightened testosterone. Makes me a little less like my usual self. Dustin says I’m aggressive. Puts it down to steroids.”

“He hasn’t noticed how fast this happened?”

“Well, I’m with him so much of the time, I think it was too gradual for him to catch,” said Tom. “I seem to just get a little bigger every day. A week ago, everything in my wardrobe was just really tight. Skintight shirts, jackets, trousers, underwear. Then three days ago, I burst the seams on three shirts one after the other. I can only wear muscle-t’s now.”

“That’s why you want to meet? To discuss how big the change will be in next month’s Youtube films?”

“Also, you’re the only one who I can discuss it with,” said Tom. “You’re the only one who knows why I’m not quite so fucking sweet as I was before. And Chris, I really need to fuck. You. Right now.”

“Uh…” Chris didn’t know what to say. His hard cock seemed to grow denser and weightier and more upright than ever. “That’s great, but…”

“Come on,” said Tom. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You loved rubbing those oils into my body, didn’t you? You loved how it felt.”

“Of course I did.”

“And you took care to rub plenty into my hard dick,” said Tom, “my cute little five-incher. I was listening to the way you were breathing, hot and hungry. I could smell you perspiring. I knew you wanted me there and then. But I was shy. And I’m not feeling shy nowadays.”

Chris licked his lips. “Sounds good to me.”

“Not only that,” said Tom, “there’s something you ought to see. Because everywhere you touched has blown up, Chris. I’m nearly as tall as you now. I’m pretty hench. My neck is thick. My body is strong. And then there’s this.”

 

[LawrenceJ]

He dropped the towel to the floor and his dick sprung free of its folds. It was no longer a cute little five-incher. Curving outward and slightly up, it rivalled Chris’ 8” for length and girth. A fat vein ran from balls to glans. Without a word, Chris dropped to his knees and began to worship it with his mouth. It tasted clean, but as he worked it with his tongue, lips and throat, Chris tasted salty sweetness. He went slow, till strong hands grabbed the back of his shaven head and forced his throat down on its full huge hard length.

“Suck my big fat cock,” said Tom Daley, pinning Chris to him as he choked and gasped, and softly thrusting against the roof of Chris’ mouth.

He released the older man and Chris tried not to make too much noise as he choked and gasped for breath. He was feeling slightly dizzy, and vaguely aware of the Olympic diver talking, somewhat softly.

“I said,” he repeated, “turn the fuck around – Daddy.”

Chris was a top. He had always been a top. Ever since college, through the nineties and noughties. Through boyfriends, saunas and sex clubs. He could list the number of times he’d got fucked on one hand.

But Tom’s big fat dick felt good in his arse, even without any lubricant but his own spit. On the gym shower room floor, the younger man, with equal strength to the older one, went slowly because of his size, but the pleasure was sublime, and the feeling of being stretched was exciting. And Tom loved it too.

“Take that big fucking cock, Daddy,” he said, his nice, polite voice breaking slightly. “Take it. Oh fuck, yes! You like a nice big cock in your arse, don’t you, Daddy?”

“I do! I fucking do!”

“Good to know,” the athlete replied, beginning to pound him faster now. “Because this doesn’t stop here.”

“Oh yes!”

“I’m not satisfied just being big,” said Tom. “I want to be a fucking muscle beast. Got that?”

“Mmm – yeah!”

“And most important of all,” said Tom, “I need to put plenty of that stuff on my big dick, because that can never get too big, too long, too thick…”

“Never!”

“I’m going to get myself a fucking horse-cock, Chris,” said Tom, his balls smacking off the older man’s arse. “And I’m going to put it deep inside you. You’re going to take it. You’re going to take it all…”

Seconds after they both came, spunking all over the tiled gym floor in Chris’s case, and unleashing a tide of hot cum in Chris’s arse in Tom’s case, Chris found himself thinking, “Holy fuck – where do we go from here?”



TO BE CONTINUED

 

[AJnCJ]

Wow.
Not what I expected.
Kinda hot, though.
What's next?

 

[LawrenceJ]

Glad you enjoyed it - I went too fast too quickly with this story, so I ended up leaving it there. Consider it complete, and the rest is up to your imagination.

 

[5tarman]

Add where he's fucking/getting fucked by Nile Wilson the gymnast...

 

[LawrenceJ]

Add where he's fucking/getting fucked by Nile Wilson the gymnast...

Just looked him up. Jesus Christ, that's a good combination of innocent good looks and killer body.

See also, Adam Peaty...

 

[william1]

Just looked him up. Jesus Christ, that's a good combination of innocent good looks and killer body.

See also, Adam Peaty...

Think i would prefer Adam Peaty to Nile, but seeing as its about 10 million to one chance of either i will just keeping dreaming about Tom's fabulous peachy arse !!