MEN, MUSCLE, and MAYHEM (6 page)

I receive one final text. “Sorry, stud. It ain’t gonna work tonight.”

I don’t even answer. I erase his number. I am done …

… at least until the next time he sends me a text.

CONFERENCE CALL

I had been camming with Jeff for years. We met on Bigmuscle then exchanged Yahoo IDs and would cam and flex every couple of months. He was in the business like me, so I knew he would be discreet. Besides, if he sold a video of me, I could do the same to him.

He lived 3,000 miles away. I felt as if I knew him intimately. We would strip then flex, then jerk off for each other. We told each other our fantasies. He would tell me how he wanted to sit in my lap while I flexed and fucked him; I told him he needed to sit on my face first. It was harmless camming, so I told him things I wanted to do that were not usually part of my routine. But, it was all in good fun.

I bought a new computer with a cam built in, so I wanted to try it out. Well, the cam was on the top of the screen, so I had to fold it a bit to get a good shot, but that limited my ability to see what he was doing, so I bought an external cam to enjoy as well as put on a show.

I am usually pretty good with computers, so hooking up the external cam was easy enough.

I was on a video conference call with my agent and manager, when my Yahoo IM popped up with a message from Jeff. I told him to give me about thirty minutes until I finished up this call.

A half hour later, I ended the call with my guys, and sent an IM to Jeff that I could ‘play’ now.

And, as usual, we were naked in seconds, flexing and showing off.

I had slipped on a cock ring and was greasing up my dick, while he did the same. In between, I would wipe off my hands and type up some nasty message; he would then reply with something even nastier.

Occasionally, I would tease him by rubbing my thumb on the head of my dick, then trailing a string of precum up to my mouth and licking my thumb clean. He loved that, being as much of a cum pig as I was.

His favorite thing was for me to flex my bicep right up to the camera, and when he was ready to come, he would beg me to do that. I liked watching him flex his legs and muscular butt.

We were really going at it today, and I was standing, naked, flexing, all oiled up and stroking away. I was getting close, so I gave him a thumbs up. I then let go of my dick, flexed both biceps and came without touching myself. My dick shot up high and quite a few times, then a few extra spurts dripped down the length of my dick and onto my balls while I continued to flex.

He came, too, all over his hairy belly.

I waved goodbye; he did the same. Then, I cleaned myself up before turning off the cam.

My Skype buzzed. It was my agent.

I clicked him on after slipping on a T-shirt.

“I just figured out how to jump start your career,” he said.

I didn’t realize both web cams were going at once. Since the one he was watching was the one that was part of the computer with the bad angle I mentioned earlier, all he got was the neck down.

The video went viral in about an hour. The interviews requests poured in, and I neither denied nor admitted that it was my body.

I just signed a four picture deal with a major studio.

I specified no nude scenes in my contract.

Oh, and Jeff? He is directing one of the pictures. We finally are going to meet face-to-face.

THE LAB RAT

Dr. Musclestein had a theory. Anyone could achieve the results of a steroid user, provided they had proper nutrition, access to the best weight training equipment available, unlimited time, and encouragement.

He had a state-of-the-art gym built in a wing of his home, complete with kitchenette, bedroom, full bath, and French doors leading to his backyard swimming pool. The subject of his experiment would be required to live in that wing of the house for thirty days. His waking hours would mostly be spent working out. He would also be eating quality proteins, fresh fruits and vegetables, and he would have daily, two-hour tanning privileges by the pool. However, no television would be allowed. When he was not eating or sleeping, he was to be working out. His muscles would be pumped during all his waking hours, forcing them to grow beyond anyone’s expectations.

However, to test his theory, Dr. Musclestein needed a lab rat. He searched high and low across the local college campus, but there were no candidates who fit the bill. He visited all the local gyms, but no one was right for the job. He even scoured the beaches. There were those who were willing to be his subjects, but all had been on the ‘juice.’

He needed a natural bodybuilder, and he was disappointed. All this expense to build the perfect lab, and he could not carry out his experiment. He was about to give up, when he noticed the man mowing his lawn. This was not his usual gardener. Bobby, his gardener, was in his sixties and although in good shape for his age, he was no muscle man. But Bobby’s replacement was exactly what the Doctor had ordered.

Dr. Musclestein had an idea, but he would need to get dressed first. He usually walked around his home in nothing but black sweat pants. To look at him, one would have thought he had already tried out his theory on himself. He was six-foot-five and 260 pounds of smooth, rock-hard muscle. Everything about him rippled and bulged. But, if he was going to approach the gardener about his experiment, he needed to dress the part. He changed into gray slacks, a white shirt, striped tie, a lab coat and his black framed bifocals.

As he stepped out the back door, he spotted the gardener, who just at that moment was taking off his shirt. The man was five-foot-nine and looked to weigh around 190 pounds. He was hairy and thickly muscled. Dr. Musclestein guessed him to be Italian, and when the thirty-four-year-old man introduced himself as Scott Manicotti, his heritage was confirmed. Scott wore his black hair in a crew cut and also had a goatee. The doctor thought to himself,
If this guy is not gay, he missed an excellent opportunity
.

Dr. Musclestein explained his theory to Scott, who seemed more interested than any of the other potential subjects, and that afternoon, Scott moved into the lab wing of the house. Dr. Musclestein kept the door to the lab locked in the event that Scott might try to escape, which would cause him to have to start his experiment anew. However, since Scott had been there, he did not complain once. He enjoyed being able to work out all hours of the day and night.

Every day, Dr. Musclestein would unlock the door and enter the lab with two bags of fresh groceries – the highest quality proteins, fresh fruits and vegetables, and plenty of bottled water. After putting the groceries away, he would observe his lab rat, who could always be found working out. The lab rat, as per the doctor’s instructions, wore minimal clothing, preferring only a jock strap, sweat socks and sneakers.

Dr. Musclestein would pull out his tape measure and chart the lab rat’s progress. He would carefully measure his biceps, pecs, waist, glutes, thighs, and calves. The lab rat was doing well and had already put on ten pounds of solid muscle. His thick build had evolved into a ripped display of hairy, masculine strength.

Dr. Musclestein was pleased with the results, and every day, he would take the prior day’s dirty jock straps and sweat socks and lock the door. After returning to his section of the home, he would strip off his lab coat, shirt, tie and slacks and stroke his thick, hard cock, while sniffing the lab rat’s dirty jock, until he covered his smooth chest and belly in cum.

During the third week, Dr. Musclestein was so pleased with the lab rat’s progress, he decided to give him a treat. He usually did not check in on his subject any time after the morning progress report, but he decided to surprise the lab rat this particular afternoon.

He unlocked the door, and he was surprised not to find his subject working out. However, he did hear the shower going. Dr. Musclestein placed the tray he was carrying on the kitchenette counter and sat down on one of the stools, waiting for the lab rat to finish scrubbing up.

He heard the squeaking sound of faucets being turned off and the shower door being opened. A few seconds later, the lab rat appeared. He was stark naked, pumped as usual and dripping wet. Dr. Musclestein was pleased with his progress scoping out the subject’s beautiful muscles, especially the thick one that was hanging between his legs. The lab rat saw the tray and asked about it.

Dr. Musclestein pointed to the cake and ice cream on the tray and said, “I think you have worked very hard, and I brought you a reward.” He then motioned for the lab rat to sit on the stool facing him and not bother putting on any clothes.

The Doctor looked him over admiring the results of his experiment. He then grabbed a spoon and proceeded to feed the lab rat. The more he fed him, the more he fell in love with him. The lab rat looked up at the doctor and opened his mouth invitingly with each spoonful of cake and ice cream.

The doctor scooted in closer and placed a hand on the lab rat’s thigh while continuing to feed him his treat, spoonful by loving spoonful. His hand slid up the lab rat’s thigh until he reached the prize. As he stroked the subject’s hardening cock, he continued to spoon feed him. Precum was leaking heavily from the lab rat’s dick, and he used the goo to slick it up and increase his stroke.

And, they never took their eyes off each other.

The doctor put down the spoon and leaned in, gently kissing his subject, tasting the cake and ice cream and exploring the lab rat’s mouth with his tongue. His cock started to pulse as their lips moved across each other and their tongues intertwined.

Dr. Musclestein got up from the stool and leaned down in front of his subject. He removed his hand from the throbbing dick and with his mouth tasted a steady stream of sweet and salty precum, and as he cupped the large hairy balls that hung from the lab rat, he heard a quickening of breath, and felt the first shots of many of the subject’s sweet, thick load hitting the back of his throat. He did not take his mouth off the cock until he knew it was completely drained.

Dr. Musclestein got up and sat back down on the stool, and the two of them kissed, tasting the load that was just released. They kissed for a long time, acknowledging their love for each other.

When they released their lips, the lab rat looked deeply into the eyes of the doctor.

“That was hot, really hot,” Scott said.

“I couldn’t help myself; you look incredible,” Dr. Musclestein said. “Apparently, my theory works.”

Scott looked down at himself, pleased with his progress. The doctor ran the back of his hand across the young man’s hairy body.

“You know I have to be back to work tomorrow,” Scott said.

“Yeah,” the doctor acknowledged.

Scott stood up and put on a fresh jock. He looked over at the doctor and said, “Next month, I get to be Dr. Musclestein, OK?”

“Anything for you, baby,” Dr. Musclestein answered and smiled as he realized how lucky he was that they still enjoyed these games eight years after they first met.

BITCH, PLEASE

I had pretty much given up on dating. It was always the same thing. The guy would come on strong the week before the date, being all charming and sexy. Then, we would go on the date, have a pretty good time, maybe even have a second date. After that, we would make plans for another date. A few days later, I would get the message that he wasn’t feeling well. Then, he would have the flu. Then, he would cancel. And of course, we would never see each other again.

Sure I had been on dates, when I didn’t want to see the guy again, but I have balls, and I would be honest up front and say that I either didn’t see a future in this, or this wouldn’t work out, or I just wasn’t interested in him.

I don’t play games. I don’t tease. I don’t bullshit around. Maybe this is why I am single. I just don’t put up with guys’ crap.

Am I that repulsive? No. As a matter of fact I have been told I am sexy, beautiful, funny, smart, easygoing, you name it.

For the record, I don’t consider myself sexy or beautiful. I never go for guys who look like me. I always laugh at those clone couples. It is obvious they find themselves so attractive that every guy they date looks like their twin. If I saw me on the street, I wouldn’t give myself a second look.

Do I think I am ugly? Hell no. If I were ugly, would I be America’s heartthrob? Would I be openly gay and still be landing roles as a sexy straight man, bedding every young, firm actress in Hollywood?

Women eat me up. Once they see the first fifteen minutes of one of my latest movies, they forget I suck cock and take it up the ass. They believe I am totally into eating pussy and slamming my man-hammer in after I have warmed it up with my sexy mouth.

But, some heartthrob. I cannot get past date number three. Is it the guys I date? Probably. Let’s face it. I can’t just walk into a club and pick up some guy anonymously. The paparazzi follow me everywhere.

A lot of guys want my life. Let me tell you. Getting laid when you are famous is not easy. You can’t pick up guys online because you don’t know what kind of stalker or weirdo you will let into your home. Or, he could go running to the tabloids with all the details.

As I said, I am out, but even if I were straight, I would run into the same issues with some hot chick, who just wanted to sell her story to
The Enquirer
, telling them how big my dick was or how fast I came.

So, how does someone like me get a date? Well, I could date other actors, but I find them so self-absorbed, and they can be worse than those outside the business. Most are closeted, and the others are just looking for a way to advance their careers. Therefore, I depend on friends or those I meet through my charity work.

Hard to believe that someone as famous as I does charity work, isn’t it? Well, my uncle always said you have to give something back. I feel very fortunate to have the life I have, and when I am on a break from filming, I devote my time to those who need it most – animals. I enjoy this part of my life more than the work some times.