Disclaimer: If you are under 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read material of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between men. It is entirely a work of fictional entertainment.
Trapped Muscle-Cop, Part 20 By Reflex (reflex012004@yahoo.com) Copyright 2006
Part 20: Good Boy
While Rick was busy rearranging Tom's future, Pete and Tony were shooting the breeze and finishing up a satisfying dinner. Pete stepped over to the white and red plastic cooler and pulled out two more icy-cold beers. As Pete popped the caps off, Tony looked at his friend's muscular arms in the setting sun, taking in the perfect contours, the fullness of the muscles, the thick coating of short brown hairs dusting up past the elbows, turning into glistening peach fuzz on the biceps and triceps. Pete registered Tony's gaze. He put the beers down on the little table next to where Tony was sitting and tightened his muscles, keeping his arms at his sides. He turned around so Tony could get a view from behind.
"Pretty good, huh guy?" Pete said quietly.
"Heck, yeah Pete. Damn, your arms are as good as mine! I'm gonna have to watch ya to make sure you don't gain any ground on me, ha!" Tony laughed.
Pete turned around and ran his left hand across his big hairy pecs. Behind his dark sunglasses, he watched Tony's eyes following his hand. He smiled at Tony's response. It was typical, he thought. Tony's frame of reference for everything revolved around himself. For Tony, other people, well, other guys, existed on a comparative scale with his own hot Italian good looks. Most people were put off by this aspect of Tony's personality, but not Pete. It was one of the things he liked about Tony. The cop's self-centered arrogance really turned Pete on. Pete didn't see it as a flaw. He saw it as a vulnerability to be exploited.
Pete raised his arms up in a double-biceps pose and flashed his straight white teeth at Tony. "Hey," he said, "get a feel 'a these babies, Tony."
Tony took another sip of beer and put the bottle down. He stood up. Since Pete was standing right in front of the chair, Tony practically bumped into him as he rose. For a brief second, their noses were barely an inch apart. Tony breathed in the rich scent radiating off Pete's warm body. Pete didn't budge, so Tony stepped to the side then walked around to Pete's back. Pete could feel Tony's warm breath hitting the back of his neck. He wanted to reach down and rub his dick, but he exercised firm control over himself. Pete knew that Tony, by contrast, had very little self-control. That was another aspect of Tony's personality that Pete really liked.
Tony's hands hovered nervously over Pete's flexed biceps. He brought them down and touched the firm skin. Slowly he ran his hands around the muscles, his palms getting tickled by the downy peach fuzz, especially where it got a little thicker over Pete's triceps. Pete pumped his muscles and wished he could look behind to see the state of Tony's shorts.
Tony was now rubbing his hands all over Pete's upper arms, sometimes keeping them in place and squeezing the muscle with his fingers and palms while his thumbs grazed back and forth across a little area of sensuous flesh. He was breathing heavily.
"This is excellent, Pete. Fuck, you got great arms, dude," he said.
"Thanks guy, you know how much I work on 'em. How about my forearms? Whaddya think of those?" Pete asked.
Tony's hands slid up to Pete's raised forearms, his fingers trailing through the thick brown hair. "Beautiful, man, nice definition... thick without being lumpy, know what I mean?"
"Yeah, I got ya. Thanks," Pete said. He wondered if Tony would take his hands away at that point; he didn't. The hunky cop kept gripping and squeezing, rubbing and massaging every square inch of Pete's arms, moving back to the upper arms for a bit and then returning to the forearms, right up to the wrists. Pete couldn't believe it. This seemed to go on for about ten minutes without Tony saying a word, just standing behind, rubbing Pete's arms and breathing onto the back of his neck. He began to wonder if Tony could stop himself. Pete was having to exert considerable force of will to keep his dick from going fully hard.
"Hey, guy," Pete chirped, "we should do this after our workouts... ya know, give each other a rub down... it's really good for toning the muscles after you've just put them through their paces with the weights."
Tony didn't say anything so Pete put his arms down and turned around to face him. Tony didn't seem to know what to do with his hands and there was a slightly glazed look in his eyes. He pulled himself out of it and said, "Yeah... yeah! Great idea! I can't really afford a masseur, so that would be great!"
"F-a-n-tastic," Pete said. Like a comic book superhero, he brought his arms up in a flash and said, "Look at my lats! Pretty good, huh?"
Tony's fingers were twitching at his sides.
Pete tried to follow Tony's gaze. At first he thought Tony was staring at his nipples, but then his eyes seemed to travel further afield. Pete realized that Tony was looking at his armpits. Pete looked down at his own armpits and said, "Oh, sorry about that, guy. I've got really soupy pits. All those thick swirls of hair, I suppose, huh? My pit hair is real, real thick, isn't it? Really thick and ripe. Man, I can smell my pits from here. Phew-ee!" Pete said, flashing his smile again. "Shit, this is gonna sound kinda crazy, but what the hell. You can't tell anyone though, okay?"
"'Course not, man!" Tony replied.
"Well, see, the thing is... sometimes, I don't know what it is, but I just like to, uh, sniff 'em, ya know? Okay, that's pretty embarrasin', guy. I shouldn't 'a told ya that. I..."
"No... no man, I hear ya!" Tony said brightening up. "I know what ya mean, Pete. Hell, yeah! I mean, shit, your secret's safe with me, dude, 'cause I'm the same. I like to do that too. My pits get so damn, ripe and cheesy and, shit, funky smellin', that sometimes I just gotta get my nose in there and take a whiff. Funny, huh? I don't know why I do it but, heck, I totally know what you're talkin' about, man. It's kind 'a hot. I've got real bushy pits too, just like yours. Hey, do you ever, like, run your fingers through all that hair... tickle 'em a bit?"
"OH MAN!" Pete said. "I knew you were gonna be my best buddy, Tony. Hey, stick your fingers in there. Tickle my pits, guy! I know exactly what you're talkin' about."
Tony laughed. He spread his legs like he was sturdying himself, and reached up to Pete's hairy pits. He kind of curled his fingers inwards a bit, like he was part way towards balling them into fists, but keeping his thumbs up. Then very lightly he began brushing the backs of his fingers in Pete's pit hair. Nice, gentle up and down strokes, just teasing the follicles. Tony had a huge smile on his face. The more time he spent with Pete, the more he felt like this guy was going to be his best friend. They seemed to like all the same things and Pete was so easy to talk to, like they could read each other's minds. Tony thought that every hot babe in the city might as well throw her panties out the window when he and Pete walked into the room. Man, they were so studly!
Tony kept brushing Pete's pit hair back and forth and up and down, sometimes pushing down a bit and swirling in circles. He restabilized his legs, keeping them spread, and straightened out his hands like he was about to apply some ancient Chinese massage technique to Pete's underarms. He pressed his palms against the thick tufts of hair and rubbed. Then he'd let his fingers dig around and tickle. Pete burst out with a laugh, but said that it felt great. He told Tony to keep going. Pete thought that Tony had a look on his face like he could do this forever. Pete had no objection (on the contrary!), but now was not the time. He knew full-well that he was not going to be able to keep his dick down for too much longer. He had to move things along.
"Woo hoo! Can ya smell those pits, Tony? Wow, guy, you stimulatin' the hell outta those babies is makin' me cook up a storm of spicy sweat! Heck, get a whiff of that, would ya!"
Tony looked at the tufty brown-haired pits.
Pete spoke up, "Go on... get in there, guy... hot hot hairy pits for ya... get your face in there."
Tony put his hands down and pulled his legs together. He stepped a little closer, his chest and Pete's only a few inches apart - a gap that was rapidly being closed by the bulges in both pairs of shorts. Tony could feel the heat radiating off Pete's body. His nose picked up the rich mix of scents emanating from the construction stud's pits. Tentatively, Tony lowered his head towards Pete's right pit and inhaled the natural masculine cologne.
SNIF SNIF SNIF
"Awwww, fuck man!" Tony gasped.
Pete grinned when he saw Tony lick his lips. He figured the guy was totally unaware of what he had just done. Seconds later and Pete could hear Tony snuffling and felt the electric sensation of another man's face rutting around in the dark musky confines of his hairy underarm. Slowly, Pete brought his left hand over to the back of Tony's head and pushed gently, pressing Tony's nose and lips right up against the damp skin. Tony could feel Pete's pit hairs tickling up inside his nostrils and poking between his lips. He was so comfortable with Pete that he wasn't really thinking, and when he felt his dick bulging out the front of his shorts, he nearly reached over with his right hand to give it a rub. At the last second, he had the presence of mind not to do that and clasped his hands behind his back instead. Pete watched that little performance with glee and mental approbation. He loved seeing Tony keep his twitching hands behind his back. It was a first taste of how Pete wanted things to be from now on. Tony wouldn't get to touch his own dick unless Pete gave him permission. Tony was going to learn what for him would be the delicious agony of putting someone else's pleasure before his own, that is, assuming Tony would eventually get to have his own pleasure, which was by no means a foregone conclusion.
All of the sudden, Pete felt something wet. Tony had opened his mouth and was now sucking the sweat off of Pete's pit hairs and licking the tender pit flesh! Pete's head flew back, the veins in his neck straining. He had to stifle a groan.
"HUH... good... job... guy! HUH! Man, you're a real buddy, takin' care of my pit like that!" Pete said, trying hard to sound in control. His hand dropped off the back of Tony's head.
The pleasure didn't last long as Tony became aware of what he had just done. He snapped his head out of the pit and looked at Pete somewhat anxiously.
"Uh, sorry, Pete... I didn't mean to do that... I just got uh, uh, a little carried away," Tony stuttered.
Once again, Pete came to the rescue. "No, guy, that was hot! Nothin' to feel embarrassed about. Shit, we're guys. Guys do that kind 'a stuff... well, they do when they are as hot as we are! Ha!" Pete said as he tapped his knuckles on Tony's chest for emphasis. "No, really, guy, thanks! Whew, we do like the same things! Kee-Ryst... a workout partner who also appreciates a fine set of pits! You're the best, Tony."
Tony visibly relaxed, but Pete realized he wasn't going to get the sexy Italian to do his other armpit. It didn't really matter though. The brief exercise had served its purpose; Tony's dick had clearly gotten a bit fatter, the bulge in his tight gym shorts a bit more plump.
Pete spoke up before Tony had a chance to realize his embarrassing condition. "Here," Pete said, "let me do you. Get those arms up, stud!"
Tony laughed and raised his arms, putting his hands behind his head.
Pete walked around, inspecting the top grade beef on display.
"Man, guy, your arms are fuckin' hot... and these forearms... phewweeeeee... powerhouses, Tony, beautifully defined... like you said about mine, pal, thick, but not lumpy or over defined. Nice curvaceous accentuation of all the muscle groups. Just r-i-g-h-t. Fuck! I thought I had the best arms in the gym, but I gotta tell ya, stud, these are works of art! And man, this thick coating of short black hairs you got on 'em... all over your forearms an' climbin' right up your upper arms, turnin' into a nice dusting of really fine dark little hairs, goin' right up to the base of your shoulders... soooo fuckin' manly, Tony." Pete's honeyed flattery flowed forth, leaving Tony feeling more than a little hot and sticky. His fingers were twitching a bit. His shorts felt tighter. And he had a look on his face that conveyed his whole being: handsome, horny, and stupid.
Pete stepped around in front of Tony again and let out a long whistle. "Now those are pits to be proud of!" he said, shaking his head as if he had never before seen the likes of Tony's hairy underarms. Pete reached up, holding his hands about six inches from Tony's tufted gems. He looked at the dark-haired cop. Tony now had a determined expression on his face. His lips were tightly sealed and he was breathing heavily through his nose, nostrils flaring as he inhaled and exhaled. Pete understood perfectly. He loved it. This was a pose of defiance, a dare: "Do your worst! I'm all man. I can take it!" That was the message Tony was trying to give off with his body language. Pete, however, could read between the lines. This wasn't "Do your worst, I can take it". This was "PLEASE do your worst; Please MAKE me take it!"
Pete kept a straight face with only the slightest hint of a smile. He wasn't sure, but he thought Tony might be admiring himself in the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. Pete's smile broadened. Slowly he brought his fingers towards Tony's vulnerable pits. He lightly brushed and teased the tops of the bushy tufts of hair. He saw a bead of sweat form on Tony's brow.
"Shit, guy, your pits are even hairier than mine! That Italian heritage, huh? Nice... real nice... you're THE MAN, Tony... how's that feel?"
Tony didn't say a word. He just squeezed his lips tighter.
Pete slowly began twirling his fingers deeper into the bushy pits. Tony was sweating like a pig and Pete's fingers were getting liberally coated. Tony flinched when Pete's fingers made contact with his sensitive skin. Softly, Pete circled his fingers in each of the pits, starting at the center and gradually moving outwards. He could see the muscles in Tony's arms twitching and heard a muted whimper being throttled deep in Tony's throat.
Pete smiled. "H-o-t... s-w-e-a-t-y... r-i-p-e... p-i-t-s... can ya smell 'em Tony... your own muscle-stud pits?"
Pete repositioned his hands and lightly dragged his fingers from the bottom of Tony's armpits towards the top, pushing the slick coating of sweat upwards, further and further until he reached the insides of Tony's biceps.
"Keep those arms still, buddy. I'm just gonna smear your pit sweat all over your biceps, gettin' your upper arms all nice and coated in your pit stink. You just keep cookin' up the sweat and I'll make sure to get it nicely spread all over your muscle-bound arms. Gonna get these arms just as nice and rank as your hot soupy pits... yeah!"
Tony's eyebrows raised up and his mouth fell open. This time he couldn't choke back a sigh. It was too much... too hot... it had happened before. Tony's memory flashed back to that first night he'd met Rick and Tom, when he was sitting in that chair in the warehouse, being forced at gunpoint to flex his muscles. Rick had reached into his dripping pits and swept his sweat out beyond the short sleeves of his shirt. Rick wiped the smelly sticky fluid across Tony's biceps like he was spreading some kind of lotion on them... just like Pete was doing now.
"Hot, huh?" Pete said. "Here, let's get some more." Pete brought his hands back to Tony pits and gathered more sweat in another upward swing. This time, he rubbed it into Tony's triceps. "Yeah, let's really baste your muscles!"
"B...baste?" Tony choked out. Tony groaned at what was now, for him, a trigger-word, even if Pete didn't know it.
"Yeah, baste? You know, guy, like when you're buttering up a turkey. Hey, wait a minute, man. I've got an idea. Oh hell, yeah! You're gonna love this, guy. You just stay put... won't be a second... okay?"
Tony nodded.
"Good boy," Pete said in a deep and throaty voice.
Tony groaned inwardly. Another trigger phrase. It was like Pete was at the console for some king of machine, flipping switch after switch until it was all systems go! For the past month or so at the gym, Pete would sometimes say "good boy" and invariably it kicked Tony's balls into action. "Why the hell was that?" Tony muttered to himself as he stood there trying to figure out what was going on.
Pete reappeared with his hands behind his back. He had taken off his sunglasses since the twilight sky was fading. The long days of high summer had passed. Tony could make out a mischievous, even boyish smile on Pete's lips, but the handsome light-brown eyes bespoke authority. Pete brought his right hand up and showed Tony what he had. Tony let out a deep heavy grunt, "NNGH!" Pete didn't know what he had expected, but that struck him as a curiously strong response. As if seeking confirmation, he quickly glanced downwards. In the fading light, he thought he saw a large wet spot on the front of Tony's shorts.
Pete chuckled. "Hey guy, it's not for nothin' that I'm the boss at work. If you're gonna do a job, then do it properly... and for that ya need the right tools, right? For this job, what we need is a... b-a-s-t-i-n-g brush! There's still some bar-b-que sauce on it though. Here, hold on."
Pete reached down and lightly ran the basting brush up and down the front of Tony's shorts, right along the top of Tony's clearly delineated very hard cock, effectively painting a long dark-brown stripe.
Tony was taking quick short breaths. He could feel his stiffening dick and heavy ball pushing harder against his briefs and gym shorts and there didn't seem to be any stopping it.
"Humph... kind 'a looks like an arrow, doesn't it? Needs a pointy arrowhead at the tip though."
There wasn't much sauce left on the brush at this point, but that suited Pete fine. In fact, he thought it was better this way. It was going to take a little longer and would require more poking with the sturdy bristles. Pete crouched down to get a little closer to the object of his interest. He held up the brush and started trying to paint a downward pointing triangle on the plump head of Tony's cock as it strained against the front of the white cotton gym shorts.
Tony's cock lurched and stiffened more. He'd never felt anything like this. The bristles alternated between a smooth tender caress and a near unbearable prickling tickle as Pete followed short sweeping strokes with light rapid-fire jabs. Tony let out a strangled cry and started to lower his arms.
Pete noticed and decided to test his authority. He said quietly, but sternly, "Get those arms back up! I didn't say you could lower 'em, guy."
"Bu..."
"Arrrrms UP."
Tony groaned and locked his fingers behind his head again.
"Good boy," Pete said. He thought he saw Tony's dick lurch. He resumed torturing the big fat cocktip, enjoying the continuous drip he was now forcing it to produce. Tony got that determined look on his face again, only this time he couldn't quite close his mouth as he exhaled little puffs of air, "Huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh, huh!"
Pete stood up. The work on Tony's dick helmet had achieved its goal, draining Tony of much of his self-control (limited as that was), and pushing him a little further along the path to becoming the completely horny dumbshit that Pete wanted him to be, or as Pete saw it, maximizing Tony's oversexed/self-infatuated/stupidity ratio.
"It's not perfect, but we gotta get back to your pits, guy! And anyway, the brush is pretty much cleared of bar-b-que sauce now. Time to drench it with some pit-sweat, huh? Wooo-eeee! Let's get you b-a-s-t-e-d!"
Tony's eyes focused on the brush as it zeroed in on his left pit. "HA! Ho ho... oh shit! Careful! That tickles, man!"
Pete chuckled. "Sorry, guy. I didn't mean to do that. Here, let's try it this way."
Pete had purposefully jabbed the bristles into Tony's pit, but now, playing along, he gently brushed with the sides. For three or four minutes Pete painted Tony's biceps and triceps with his own pit sweat. Then he changed hands and swirled the brush around in Tony's as yet unadulterated right armpit. He loaded up the brush with sweat and hovered it in the direction of Tony's right arm as Tony watched intently. Pete paused as though he were deep in thought.
"You know, we're missin' somethin' here. What turns me on is that smell, ya know? That manly smell of your own gym-worked pit sweat. Judging from the way you dove into my pit, Tony, I KNOW you like to get that smell right up your nose and on your lips... maybe taste it a bit. Heck, makes ya feel like a real stud, don't it. Sure does me! Big time, buddy! Ya know what? Here, let's try this..."
Tony and Pete watched together as Pete moved the sweat-slicked brush towards Tony's face.
"Yeeeaaaahhhhhhh...," Pete groaned as he smeared Tony's pit sweat on that patch of skin between the nose and the upper lip.
Tony whimpered and looked straight across into Pete's eyes. Pete poked the bristles into Tony's nostrils. "Yeah, got to get a little inside there so you can really smell it."
Pete lowered the brush back to the pit and swiped up another load of ripe sweat. This time he dragged the brush back and forth across Tony's closed lips.
"I'm bastin' your pretty lips guy... really coatin' 'em in your stinky pit sweat... and you like it. Hot diggidy dog, you like it! Yeah, let's get a bit more on there, and some more under your nose too... that's right... keep those big sexy arms up, stud... that's the way... good boy."
Tony's dick pulsed and oozed more sticky sap into his briefs.
Pete lowered the brush to get more pit sweat and Tony couldn't help himself; he licked his lips. Pete smiled and let his gaze drop to Tony's big hairy pecs. He dropped the brush on the lawn and cupped his hands over Tony's chest. He squeezed hard, prompting a grunt out of Tony. Then with both hands he slapped the two rounded mounds.
"Perfect, guy, just perfect. Bet this chest drives the chicks wild, huh?"
Tony grinned. "You know it, man. One look at my chest and they're on their knees beggin' me to let 'em have a feel. Pete, you gotta see me in my uniform, man. At first, it was kind 'a uncomfortable, but shit, fucker, I look hot in it. The top buttons don't close so it really shows off my chest."
"The PD lets you get away with that?" Pete asked.
"Let's me? Heck, Pete, they fuckin' make me! I don't have a choice. You've gotta wear what they give ya!"
Pete was fantasizing about Tony in his uniform as he rubbed his hands all over the cop's pecs, squeezing and patting the muscle, brushing the neatly patterned hair. He curled his fingers underneath the ridge and scratched lightly, sending delicate tickling sensations up Tony's chest.
Pete heard two heavy puffs of air come out of Tony's mouth, "Huh huh..." Pete liked that and decided he wanted to hear more. He lowered his thumbs onto Tony's nipples and began rubbing in circles. This time Tony took a couple of quick short breaths.
"Good sized man tits you got here, guy. Real big and juicy lookin'... like they could be milked... I've got big one's myself, even bigger than yours."
"Yu... yeah... I see that... your's real sensitive too, P... Pete?" Tony asked, trying to keep a vestige of self-composure but panting under the ministration of Pete's thumbs on his tits.
"Oh yeah, Tony. Get some gal suckin' on these... whew! Drive's me nuts, guy. You the same?"
"Oh man, Pete! I know exactly what you're talkin' about," Tony replied.
"You mean, so if I tugged 'em a bit... pinched 'em... like that... it'd..."
"Awww fuuucckkk! Oh geeeze, you're messin' with my hot juicy man-tits, Pete... aw shit! Don't... don't do that..."
Tony gulped. Pete watched Tony's Adam's apple bob up and down. He scratched the tips of his fingers across the stiff nubbins.
"Unnnnnnnnhhhhhh..." Tony sighed. "No... no, man. You're gonna get me all helpless 'n shit. Hey, come 'on..."
Tony looked at the grin on Pete's face. "Oh man... fucker!" Tony said with a slight giggle. "You're not stoppin'. Shit! Man, your really workin' my tits... keepin' me all good and focused on my hot pecs... aw geeze.... uunngghhh!"
Pete was scratching and pinching and twisting and tugging. Tony started to lower his arms again in instinctive response. It was too hard not to protect his chest. Pete gripped the nipples tightly, making Tony grunt. "Arms back up, guy. Don't make me repeat myself. I want 'em up and I want 'em to stay up until I give you permission to lower 'em. Got me, stud?"
Tony begrudgingly lifted his arms and clasped his hands behind his head again. Pete let go of his nips and bent over to pick up the basting brush. Tony watched him bring the brush back over to his left pit, swirling it around until it was coated with more of his rank pit sweat. Pete retracted the brush from the hairy pit. He let out a little laugh, raised his eyebrows and looked at Tony. "Guess where this is goin', buddy." Pete lowered the brush to Tony's stiff jutting left nipple.
"Awwwww, no... ho ho, shit! You're paintin' my muscle-stud tits! Pete... Pete! Aw man, those bristles are makin' em kind 'a itchy and... and tickly... ooohhhh maaaaan!"
The muscles in Tony's pecs were twitching at the devilish poking of the brush. Pete swiped the baster in Tony's right pit and then applied the slicked up brush to the right tit, giving it the same slow torturous treatment. He couldn't decide if he was surprised or not that Tony just stood there and took it. Pete chalked it up to a combination of factors, the first being that Tony secretly craved this sort of attention to his body. Pete already knew from their conversations at the gym that Tony took it for granted that people would want to worship his body - and the hot cop was more than willing to let them should the opportunity arise. Pete also congratulated himself on playing his cards right. Tony took everything at face value. Pete had helped him get rid of Rick and Tom because that's what hot studs like Pete do; they help out other hot studs like Tony. Such was Tony's mental conception of the universe. If Pete was messing around with his body now, it was because it was only natural for two such good-looking big-muscled guys to check each other out. And, of course, as Pete understood clearly and Tony not at all, something about having another guy do things to him, take control of him, turned Tony on like crazy. Doing "guy" things, just flat out BEING guys, was the best. As far as Tony was concerned, what more could anyone want? Pete was a little more sophisticated and five years older than Tony. His greater experience of life and the world had taught him that basically... Tony was RIGHT! This WAS the best!
Pete dropped the brush back on the lawn and laughed. "Now THAT is what guys like us do with these sweaty pits of ours, huh? Ha ha ha!"
Tony laughed too. "Ha ha ha! Man, that is hot! Look at those babies shine. All nice and polished. Hey, Pete, I think I like my muscle-tits this way! HA!"
Pete laughed and patted Tony's hairy abs with the back of his hand. He then crouched down and said, "Hey, lemme get a look at what kind 'a progress you're makin' with your legs. Hmmm... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, huh?"
"Whaddya mean?" Tony asked.
"What do I mean? I mean they're spectacular, man. There ain't nothin' that need's improving. I mean, look at your calves... good solid rounded muscle, thick but shapely," Pete said as he slowly ran his hands up and around Tony's legs. "Some guys get kind of wirey in the legs, ya know? You've got 'em all nicely proportioned with the rest of ya. Basically, all you have got to do is work to keep 'em in the shape they're in. I mean... look at these thighs! Whew!" Pete's hands were now rubbing and gripping the firm muscle around the front, the sides, and the back of Tony's upper legs; his hands brushing the thick coating of hair, sensitizing and tickling the taut flesh. Tony had let his arms drop to his sides as he looked down and watched Pete massage his meaty legs. He flexed the thick muscles and smiled in self-congratulation at his own perfection.
"They're nice, huh? They get a good workout at the gym, but I think it's the running I do every morning that really keeps 'em evenly toned."
Pete nodded like a starving man presented with two big joints of smoked and seasoned ham. He snapped out of his brief reverie and looked up at Tony's face. "Heeeeeeyyyy... did I say you could lower your arms, big guy?" Pete said in a jocular manner.
Tony snapped to attention. "Oh! Uhhh... right, yeah," he said as he raised his arms again.
"Yeah! That's it. Flex 'em for me stud! Good boy!" Pete said with a smile. Tony chuckled and looked at his flexing biceps.
Pete inserted his hands between Tony's legs and pressed outwards. "Here, spread your legs a bit... a bit wider... go on, a bit wider still... yeah, that's it. Niiiiiiiccce, man!"
Tony's legs were spread about four feet apart, causing the muscles to tighten and strain a bit. Pete gently patted the hard and tensed muscle on the inner thighs. "Look at that muscle, guy. That's real good."
"Ungh, thanks man," Tony grunted.
Pete began rubbing his hands up and down the firm inner thighs. After a few minutes he switched techniques and started lightly grazing the tips of his fingers in swirling circles across the sensitive and ticklish flesh. A cross between a chuckle and a groan slowly emerged from deep in Tony's chest. "Huh... huh... hey, Pete... that, uh, kinda tickles," he said.
"Yeah, I bet it does. Heh heh... Feel's kind of nice though, huh?"
"Uh... yeah, yeah, man... oh jeeze... ho ho hahhhhh..."
Pete hands were inching closer and closer to Tony's vulnerable sweaty bulging crotch. Pete let out a little whistle. "Holy mackerel Tony, these shorts you got on sure are tight. Your big legs are practically burstin' out of 'em." Pete traced his fingers along the hems. "Yeah, real tight... that's good... it suits you, stud."
Tony looked down at his gym shorts. Pete could hear his heavy breaths. When Pete started caressing and tickling Tony's inner thighs, the Italian cop's semi-hard dick returned to full hard. It was now practically vibrating in response to the teasing sensation of Pete's fingers at the tops of his thighs and back behind along the bottom of his firm twitching butt cheeks.
Tony kind of whispered, his voice almost croaking, "Yeah... I... I like 'em that way. It... it feels good... got my briefs on underneath, though."
"Ah ha! I figured there had to be something keepin' ya all packed in here," Pete said as he tapped his index finger on the tip of Tony's straining cock, eliciting a small hiss from the cop. "Otherwide that hard rod of your's would be fightin' to get out of one of these leg holes, that's for damn sure. Ha! And you are hard, ain't ya, guy?"
"Oh, fuck yeah! Real hard, Pete."
Pete slowly intoned, "Yeaaahhh... HAAARRRD... nice and HARD... SOLID... STIFF... FIRM... HAR..."
"HARRRD!" Tony groaned. Pete's soft slow incantation had permeated Tony's brain, channeling all his attention to his dick.
Pete was tracing two fingers over and under Tony's cotton-encased balls, watching sweat form on Tony's forehead. He cupped the balls in his palm and began gently patting and bouncing them in their tight confinement. He brought his left hand up to Tony's waistband and then slowly caressed his way down the bulging shaft. He tightened his thumb and the tips of his fingers around Tony's fat cock-tip and squeezed. Tony grunted and Pete squeezed again... and again, until he could feel more sticky fluid adding to the expanding wet spot. Tony's legs were shaking a bit.
"Whoa, Chief! You're about to burst," Pete announced like it was something Tony didn't know. All of the sudden, the muscular brown-haired man stood up and looked around the yard.
"Hey, it's dark out here. We gotta clean up... get the leftover food back inside. Come'on," Pete said. Tony didn't budge. Pete looked at him. "Well? Come'on. What are you waiting for?" he asked.
"Hey man. You didn't say I could put my arms down," Tony said with a smirk. Pete laughed. "You jerk-off. Put your arms down and give me a hand."
Tony grinned, re-curled his arms and flexed his biceps. "You sure dude? From the look on your face I'd say those hands of yours need to do a bit more worshippin' of my big muscles!"
Pete raised an eyebrow. He pointed over to the little table. "Plates... kitchen... now! We get the dishes done and we can head downstairs and do a little work with the free weights. I'll make sure your arms get all the attention they deserve, buddy."
Pete had hardly finished speaking when Tony was gathering up the plates, beer bottles, and condiments and heading for the kitchen. "Prepare to lick my sweaty pits!" he shouted with a laugh.
Pete put the lid on the grill and gathered up the packets of hamburger buns, potato chips and the plate with a few uncooked meat patties. They never did get round to grilling the corn he noticed. As he walked towards the kitchen door he felt his hard dick punching out the front of his red gym shorts. He could feel the dampness in his jock and briefly considered re-adjusting his package, but decided against it. He was having too much fun teasing himself.