Serving Tommy

By moc.loa@5474gnitsoP

Published on May 24, 2005

Gay

It was in the beginning of March. The weather was still very raw and cold. It was a freezing cold Friday night, about 10pm. The phone rang and it was Tommy's dad calling. Tommy and his parents had been in a bad car accident. The car hit a patch of ice and slid into on-coming traffic. His mother was in intensive car and his dad was a little banged up. Aside from being tossed around, Tommy was ok. His dad asked my parents if Tommy could stay over a few nights while he tended to Tommy's mom.

My dad and I went to the hospital to pick Tommy up. Tommy was still a little shaky from the accident, but seemed to be all right. His mom was going to be ok, although she would need time to heal and need physical therapy for a long time. His dad needed a few stitches but was otherwise fine.

I think Tommy was very glad he had some place to go that night. We drove back to our house and Tommy didn't say a word. When we got back to the house and my mother had made up the spare bed in my room for Tommy. He still had some blood on his shirt from his mom, so my mom suggested he pick up some clothes next door, then shower at our house. He quietly disappeared into his house and came back about 15 minutes later with an overnight bag.

He sat down with my parents and they told him not to worry, everything would be fine, and that he was welcome to stay at our house as long as he needed to. They had always treated him as a second son, so it really seemed like a normal thing for them to say.

I felt terrible for him, seeing his mom all banged up and having to see them take her away on a stretcher. We walked up to my room and we sat quietly. I waited for him to speak. After I waited for a while and he didn't say anything I said "I'm sorry we had a falling out. I have always loved you like a brother and I miss you being around. I am sorry about the circumstances, but maybe we can make things right between us again".

He grunted and said he was tired and wanted to shower and go to bed. I was heartbroken for him and that he really didn't seem to care about our friendship. He headed off for the shower and I climbed into bed.

He came back into the room about 20 minutes later. I was just drifting off to sleep and only the little light by the side of my bed was on. I was barely awake. All l knew was that he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweat pants. I heard him get into bed and he said "goodnight".

I asked him if he was ok, and he said he was and that he was glad to be at my house. I suggested that we workout the following day and he grunted "sure". I was ecstatic. I thought possibly that I could use that workout time to get the Tommy I knew back. We talked for another ten minutes and then we both fell asleep.

The next morning I got up at 7am and woke Tommy so we could workout. He got up, peed, brushed his teeth and then said he had to go next door to get something before we worked out. While he was gone, I brushed my teeth, peed and changed into a t-shirt and sweats.

I went to the basement and started to warm-up. I did some calisthenics, some chin-ups, push-ups and stretching. It seemed to take forever for Tommy to get back from next door.

About a half hour after he left he came to the basement. He looked all flushed, hyper and a little agitated. I asked him what took so long and he sort of snapped at me and said that he "had to do something, is that 'ok' with you??"

I said "of course" and was sort of taken aback at his tone, but let it slide. It had been several months since we had seen each other without our street clothes and I wanted to show off the work that I had done with my biceps and shoulder work. So I lifted my arms into a flexed double biceps pose and asked Tommy what he thought.

"Yeah, nice, Pete, let's get started" he said with a combination of disinterest and sarcasm. I felt sort of deflated. I had worked so hard over the last few months, I thought he might have been a little more impressed.

Tommy was still wearing his sweatshirt and sweatpants as we put weight on the bench press bar. I had loaded 90 lbs on the bar (120 pounds including the bar) and was really happy with the weight I was benching. I began and did 3 sets of 9 reps.

Tommy put on another 30 pounds on the bar and said "I need a light warm-up". I was shocked. He was a year and a half younger and was pressing 30 pounds more. He lay down on the bench and pumped out 3 sets of 15 reps without breaking a sweat. "Hey, Pete, throw on another 40 pounds".

"No way", I thought, that's 190 pounds. I put the weight on and thought "I watch him choke on this, and it'll serve him right for being such a asshole".

As soon as I loaded the weight on, he pumped out another 3 sets of 10 reps with only about 5 seconds rest between sets. When he completed the third set, he set the weights on bench down, jumped up and let out this guttural growl that scared the hell out of me.

"Oh man, that felt great" he said. With that he pulled off his sweatshirt leaving himself naked from the waist up.

He was huge and ripped. Not buff, not toned.... RIPPED! He had a completely hairless chest, thick capped shoulders, wide beefy pecs, tapering down to a tight six pack with a thin treasure trail going from his belly button into his sweatpants, and solid steel cables for biceps and forearms. The blood was flowing to his whole chest and arms and every vein was standing up and throbbing. I could not believe my eyes. This was not my friend from next door who just turned 15 last month. He looked like was some 18 year old teen muscle god who l had been a serious bodybuilder for years.

"Holy shit, Tommy...what the fuck?" I said not believing what I was seeing. "You must have gained 20 pounds of muscle since November".

"Thirty" he said. "I'm 154 now". I moved four weight classes in two months."

I was astounded. I was only 138 myself and I had been working out like a demon.

He was so wound up he was almost high. "Come-on Pete, throw on another 30 pounds on there and let me show you what I can really do".

"No man, you'll kill yourself with 220 pounds" I said.

"Stand back, Petey". He pushed past me and loaded another twenty-pound plate on each side, slid under and pumped out eight hard reps. As he pushed the weights up, I watched in amazement as I saw him working his powerful muscular chest. The eighth one was really difficult for him, but he got it. He jumped up from the bench.

"Fuckin-A, man, 230 pounds, man, look at these pecs and these guns". With that he puffed out his chest with his hands on his tight waist and then he did a double-biceps pose. I thought I was gonna cum in my sweats.

I did look at his guns....and his pumped up chest, his tight striated abs and forearms..the whole package. It was the fucking hottest thing I had ever seen. I was mesmerized. I couldn't move. He stood there flexing for me.

I was speechless. I stammered...."Tommy what the fuck have you done to yourself?"

"It doesn't look like you mind one bit", he looked right at my hard-on straining at my sweatpants. "Seems like you like to look at my hot muscles, don't ya?" With that he put his hands behind his head and squeezed down on his abs showing a rock solid eight-pack and bulging biceps.

I was frozen, all I could do is stare at Tommy. The more I looked at this muscle god, the further my jaw dropped and the harder my dick pressed up against the inside of my sweats.

"Pete, I never figured you for a queer boy, asking to see my hot muscles but your dick seems to be doing all the talkin' for ya. Betcha want to touch 'em too" he said with a sneer. "All this pumping iron gets my dick hard, I sure could use some relief, you know, Pete?

Although I had fantasized all the time about touching Tommy's cock (or any cock for that matter) I never imagined it would happen, certainly not like this.

Tommy kicked off his sneakers and pulled down his sweatpants revealing only his bulging jockstrap. On either side of his jock were heavily muscled, bulging thighs. I stepped forwards in a trance, I was no longer in control. I moved closer entering Tommy's space and smelled his musk. It drove me wild. I reached out and touched his chest and felt the hardness of his pecs.

"That's right queer boy, you love this don't you? Reach down on suck on my pole and let me fill your mouth full of my muscle cum" he instructed me. I fell to my knees and buried my nose in his jock. The smell was intoxicating. I reached around and felt the solid steel globes of his ass and pulled myself in closer to his crotch. I could feel his dick straining against the other side of the jock and pressing against my face. I licked the sides of his cock through the jock. I traced the outline of his cock with my tongue and I could tell even semi-hard that my 15 year-old neighbor was packing more cock than I had. It was throbbing and huge.

I pulled the jock down slowly and once his long thick cock cleared the waistband, it sprung straight up and slapped his taut belly with a smack. Then it just dangled right in front of my mouth. Compared to my cock, it was really enormous. There was no turning back now. It was now or never.

Any comments? Email me at: Posting4745@aol.com

Next: Chapter 3


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