When Opportunity Knocks

Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or actual events is purely coincidental.

You may contact the author at Ulfr57@gmail.com All comments, suggestions and/or obsevations are welcome if presented respectfully.

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When Opportunity Knocks

Chapter Six:

"Don't get your knickers in a bunch Brooks." Matt McCormick cautioned Talia as he continued to tap away at the keypad on his tablet as he uploaded the various files he kept for Dr. Ventrov to the laptop they were using at the "Mystery Shack," files that highlighted the physical progress of each of the members of the focus study group he was part of.

Just for good measure, Matt had started a separate file for Blake, tracking his progress as he had unwittingly been made part of this whole bizarre conundrum Matt now found himself immersed within.

Simultaneously, but secretly, Matt had decided to add his brother to his private files, though he still wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain taking his measurements each week to him, deciding he'd just have to cross that bridge when he came to it. Right now, he needed to focus on the matter at hand, or more specifically, Talia's, as she now held a small box up to him in the palm of her hand.

'What's this?" Matt inquired, eyeing his oldest friend dubiously, knowing all to well her penchant for the dramatic, when it suited her purpose, or just whenever she wanted to torment him, which just so happened to be pretty much most of the time.

"Open it and find out numb-nuts." she taunted gleefully, practically squirming in her chair in anticipation.

Talia could be devious and clever at times, but when she was excited about something, there was little she could do to restrain her jubilation, which often exhibited itself by her bouncing exuberantly.

Matt flipped the small box lid open and stared at the content.

"Um, exactly what am I looking at?" Matt queried, as he lifted the small squared object from the box and studied it closer, noting it couldn't have been bigger than half an inch in length depth or height.

"It's a camera!" Talia preened, her face suffused with her normal cocky grin as she snatched it out of his hand and sat it on the desk before opening a folder on her laptop and clicked on an icon Matt was unfamiliar with.

Almost instantly the image of the two of them staring into the diminutive device appeared on her computer screen.

"Has a fairly sensitive mic as well" She added, obviously very proud about her latest toy.

Matt frowned as she closed the program and stuffed the device back into the small box still in his hand.

"I take it this is for me to plant somewhere, though I'm seriously hoping you don't think I can risk putting it in the lab somewhere at work?" he asked cautiously, fearful of her response.

"Nah..."She retorted flippantly, adding: "This is for the coach's office, as close to his desk as possible if you can manage it."

Matt eyed her dubiously, though he felt a wave of relief wash over him knowing she wasn't expecting him to do something that could potentially have some serious repercussions if he got caught trying to bring that into the lab, though he really wasn't all that keen about trying to sneak and conceal it somewhere within Coaches Myers office either.

Luckily, Matt didn't have to hash it out with her any further as the hefty rumble of Blake's truck announced his arrival after the end of his shift at his dad's repair shop.

Visions of the night before had been on perpetual replay and Matt had found it difficult ever since to focus on anything other than their initial first sexual encounter. Sure, it had only been a blow job, but Matt was hopeful now, that it might lead to more. Blake's passionate kisses afterward certainly lead him to believe that the interest was still there, though Matt knew it would probably take more than a blow job and a few errant kisses to rebuild the trust between them.

Blake soon joined them, listening intently as Talia laid out her covert plan to have Matt bug the coach's office and eventually show off her devious little device to a curious but staid Blake.

With a concerned look planted on his face, Blake hefted the little cube-shaped camera into his hand and studied it surreptitiously as Talia once again severed the connection with the device, not wanting to wear the battery down more than necessary.

Handing it back to Talia, Blake posited thoughtfully as she carefully re-boxed the camera: "Ya know, instead of Matt trying to sneak into the coach's office, why don't you let me see if I can do it?" He paused for a second, raising his hand to halt Matt as he started to object.

"It makes more sense for me to do it. As captain of the baseball team, the co-captain and I meet with him every Wednesday to go over the team roster and discuss who needs to work on what and discuss travel arrangements for our next season."

Matt and Talia both had to agree, that made more practical sense than Matt risking being caught in the coach's office without a viable reason or excuse.

After Talia ran through how best to place the camera and offered a few suggestions on various ways to position and conceal it, they concluded their evening tête-à-tête by agreeing to meet up for lunch again the next day and testing the hopeful success of their little plan.

It was still early and the sun hadn't set yet, so when Blake suggested he and Matt stop and get a pizza and drop by his house for a while, Matt leaped at the opportunity of spending some alone time with him, especially when Blake let it be known his dad was usually at the gym most evenings and that they would probably have the place to themselves for a while.

"My dad goes to the gym most nights to..." Matt noted as he and Blake pulled out of the local Domino's with their large pepperoni pizza, adding quizzically: "I wonder if they know each other?"

Blake just shrugged his shoulders. He had met a few of the guys his dad worked out with, most being guys he'd known since he was Blake's age, but he didn't recall anyone with the last name McCormick, not that, in of itself, was that unusual. Blake didn't really spend any time with his dad at the town gym since he usually did his workouts at the school with his teammates.

"I guess they could." He suggested, knowing as well as Matt did, that Panto's gym was the only one in town and it wasn't so big that most anyone who frequented the place must, at the very least, know of each other.

"Ya know what's odd?" Blake queried, as he guided his truck through the turn off to his street: "I don't think I've ever met your parents."

Matt chuckled: "You know my brother Brian, just picture him, but a lot older and you'd recognize my dad"

As Blake pulled to a stop in front of his house and shut the engine off to his truck, he turned his head slightly and winked at Matt, a broad smile spreading across his face: "You must have gotten your good looks from your mom then because you and Brian don't look that much alike."

Matt just blushed slightly, inwardly delighted that Blake thought he was good-looking: "Actually, my mom has brown curly hair like Brian, I inherited my blond hair from my grandfather on my dad's side, though he was a good bit taller than me."

Blake snickered slightly: "You're at least five ten or eleven, that's hardly short Matt."

Matt just dismissed his comment as he fumbled with the door handle, before flinging it open and pivoting sideways to swing out of the passenger side of the vehicle: "Actually, judging by the old pictures my dad has, I take a lot after my grandfather."

Blake looked at him questioningly as he too slid out of the truck, before reaching over and picking up the pizza box, looking across the seat between them as he did so: "Is your grandfather deceased or something?"

Matt thought for a second. It had been a while since he'd thought about his grandparents on his dad's side of the family. Grandma McCormick had passed away a few years back, and Matt had always considered her to be a bit of a stoic person, usually very quiet, in a sad kind of way.

He had never met his paternal grandfather and all his dad ever mentioned of him was that he and his grandmother had divorced a few years after his dad was born and that the only time he spent any time with him was either on his birthday or for certain holidays.

Matt had gotten the distinct impression growing up, that Grandma McCormick didn't like it when he came around, though she and his dad seemed to have a differing opinion about that; still, Matt couldn't recall ever having met his paternal grandparent, though they bore a striking resemblance to one another.

The whole topic was beginning to make Matt feel a bit melancholy, so he shifted the conversation in another direction: "Dude, I'm starving, I haven't had anything to eat since lunch, and if I don't get something in my belly PDQ..."

Blake smiled mischievously at him, clutching the pizza box to his chest: "Oh, I'm sorry this pizza's for me, if you wanted something you should have said something."

Matt batted his eyes coyly in return, looking up and down Blake's body suggestively: "I don't recall saying I was hungry for pizza Mr. Wiley!"

Matt fought the urge to snicker as Blake visibly gulped as the sizeable lump in the crotch of his blue jeans expanded and twitched noticeably.

Blushing heatedly, Blake fumbled hurriedly with his key ring single handed as he juggled the pizza in the other, before finally getting the door open to his house and motioning Matt forward, taking a deep whiff of Matt's scent as he wafted by him, his rising libido motivating him to say: "Guess I better get something in you right away Mr. McCormick, don't want you thinkin' I'm a bad host or somethin'!"

<<<>>>

"This should be more than good enough," Rob Wiley said to himself as he stepped out of the sauna he had just taken for the last fifteen minutes, after completing his nightly workout at Panto's gym.

Rob strode naked as the day he was born, down the narrow hallway into one of the four back rooms Joe Panto had in the back of his gym that he allowed friends to use for a nominal monthly fee.

Rob shared that additional cost with his long-term hook-up buddy, who was even now preparing for their usual encounter as he showered and cleaned up in the gym locker room.

Normally they would have showered together, but this evening was one of "those" nights, and Rob, who always tried to be accommodating, had followed his partner's instruction to the letter.

This was one of their more frequent scenarios, and Rob had to admit, it was one of his faves too. Not the dominant verbal shit that was expected of him, but the actual raunchy sex that usually left them both drained and content. Well, at least until the next time.

Rob left the overhead lights off as he entered the dark room, shutting the door behind him as he confidently made his way across the room to the large overstuffed leather wing-back chair he knew was in the far right corner.

Flipping the switch of the single, shaded lamp on the small stand next to the chair, Rob slowly sank into the worn cool leather seat and positioned himself as expected while he quietly waited for the fun to begin.

Tonight was particularly exciting for Rob because just a couple of hours ago he got the green light on something he had been working on for over a month, something he knew would fulfill his partner's favorite, kinkiest fantasy. To spend an entire weekend being the plaything for numerous men.

Not just any men mind you, but dominant well endowed men; after all, it's what first attracted his "Pansy" to him in the first place, almost ten years ago in just two weeks, the following Saturday to be precise and Rob really wanted to mark the occasion and make it something really special for his and Pansy's tenth anniversary together, so to speak.

Rob wouldn't exactly call what he and Pansy had as a real relationship, it wasn't romantic in nature, more of a mutual satisfaction derived from the one thing they both shared in common, the need for passionate, raw, unbridled sex. Of course, there was also the fact that Pansy was married to a woman and had two kids, and was seen as a respectable family man in his middle-class neighborhood located smack dab in the middle of the hyper conservative, rural Kansas small town they both lived in called Wenton.

Of course, Pansy wasn't his real name, it was the name Rob called him when they were alone; it was a name whose origin Rob could scarcely recall, but knowing full well it resulted in Pansy's constant hunger and need to be completely and totally dominated, with part of that domination manifesting itself by way of needing to be denigrated and made to feel subservient. In fact, nothing turned Pansy on more.

Rob knew it was kind of messed up, but he also knew their relationship, be that as it may, was the one thing Pansy would argue was keeping him from going completely bonkers.

He'd grown up with a super religious parent, and took over his father's business at an early age when his dad up and abandoned him and his mom, leaving his mom to run the family business, which she fully expected her only son to take over, upon graduating high school.

Of course, it wasn't all bad. The woman he married was actually a lesbian leaning bisexual in a similar circumstance.

They had met in high school and became fast friends and served as each other's beards numerous times throughout.

They both had someone they were seeing secretly at the time, and it seemed the logical conclusion for both of them to maintain the charade, even after high school.

His wife, in fact, was still involved romantically with the same girl after all these years, but unfortunately for Pansy, his love interest at the time disappeared shortly after his mother guilted and pushed him to propose and marry the girl she assumed was his high school sweetheart.

The fact was, they had been married seven years before he and Pansy even met and it was almost another year total, flirting back and forth before they finally hooked up. Pansy was extremely cautious back then about compromising his dirty little "secret."

For Rob's part, it had just started out as convenient. He had his own small son to care for and wasn't exactly enthused by the idea of trying to balance child care, a fledgling business, and a potential romantic relationship. Not that there were that many options back then in Wenton to choose from and definitely not ones that could meet the stringent criteria he was required to adhere to. Something he didn't want to push too hard against since he had already fucked up by getting a girl pregnant who hadn't been completely vetted and sanctioned by his own father, who in the end, risked everything so that Rob and his newborn son could have the life they had now.

If only his dad could see him now, sitting in a worn, chocolate brown leather chair with his muscular legs spread, dripping in sweat with his massive erection throbbing against his slightly furry belly, which drooled pre-cum down into his naval as he waited for the inevitable knock on the door he knew would come.

And, as if right on cue...

<<<>>>

"Dayam, I can't believe how swole you're gettin' bro!" Hunter Milsbane chuffed admiringly, noting the corded striations of muscular definition highlighted by the glistening patina of sweat coating Brian McCormick's bulging body as he continued to pump relentlessly at the chest fly machine.

"You ain't do'in so bad yourself dude," Brian responded as he glanced peripherally at his companion's protruding buttocks as he continued to pull the massive weight he had set on the leg curl/extension bench, admiring and thankful for the tight, form fitting curves of his sleeve and legless black spandex unitard.

He couldn't help but think Hunter wore that outfit just to get a rise out of him, smiling to himself at how effective that strategy was at accomplishing that goal as the semi in his gym shorts bore testimony too.

Brian had to force himself to refocus his attention away from the glorious bounty of Hunter's booty or risk popping a full-blown woody right there in the gym. Though truthfully, at this time of the evening, there really weren't that many patrons lurking about to really notice.

Panto's wasn't his normal workout gym. Sure, his dad worked out here and a few of his buddies, but Brian usually did his workouts in the college weight room. But, since he and Hunter had started that self-defense class, which was conducted a few buildings down on the main street of their very small town, he and Hunter had decided to work off some extra steam afterward that night and Panto's just proved to be convenient.

He couldn't explain it, but after he took that supplement his little brother Matty had given him, with each passing day, Brian was feeling more and more energized and was finding he could push himself further than he used to be able to do. Something else he and Hunter shared in common.

Matty had been right about that too. He remembered how he had bulked at the idea of doing certain things with Hunter, but after his "little" pep talk and chat with Matty, and actually admitting to himself that maybe he actually got more out of his encounters with Hunter than he thought he would, he had found performing certain sexual acts with Hunter was truthfully more enjoyable than he had expected them to be. Case in point, eating Hunter's beautiful hole.

Brian had eschewed the idea originally, thinking that was a little gayer than his usual macho bravado would allow him to accept. But, the more he did it, the more he found himself enjoying it, almost as much as Hunter enjoyed having it done. Matty had been right about that too.

All he had to do was lick Hunter's butt for a few minutes and Hunter would be squirming all over the place, practically begging him to plow his hole. Something he was more than willing to do, even without Hunter's encouragement.

Brian wasn't the only one whose views had changed either. During the days post their first encounter, Brian was fairly certain he had pumped more cum up Hunter's butt than he had in all the time he dated his ex-girlfriend.

He knew that part of what was affecting him was that stuff Matty had given him, but there was no denying that most of it was just pure passion and raw, animalistic attraction. Something else he and Hunter shared, while simultaneously having to admit it was something he had never felt for his girlfriend.

Having sex with his little brother and now Hunter had unleashed something within him and was now forcing him to re-evaluate and examine what it was he had ever seen in his ex.

In the beginning, from grade school through high school, the only common thing they truly shared was mutual friends and the ability to make each other laugh and if Brian was being honest with himself, it had always been more about friendship and their shared history growing up together, that and the fact, that everyone always assumed they would end up together. So much so, that Brian was becoming more and more convinced, that was the real reason they started dating; it was just what was expected of them.

Brian was still lost in his thoughts, reliving his past relationship and internally reflecting on how contrived it all seemed to him now, when he practically jumped out of his skin when felt the light touch of Hunter's hand on his bare shoulder, startling him back to the here and now.

"Yo dude, let's say we call it a night," Hunter said, an impishly mischievous look in his eyes as he suggested they head to the shower room as he turned and started walking away from him while batting his eyes suggestively over his shoulder, giving Brian the come hither look.

Not needing any further prompt, Brian sprang to attention, in more ways than one, and followed suit, his eyes glued to the sway of his hips and the meaty bounce of the twin globes of his near perfect ass.

They had no sooner entered the locker room when Hunter grabbed his hand and hauled him back toward the toilet stalls to the far side and thrust Brian into the furthest one, slamming the partition door shut and flipping the bolt, locking them in before swiveling around him and taking a seat on the toilet as his fingers anxiously sought the waistband of his sweatpants and jerked them down, along with his jock, freeing his rapidly swelling ten and a half inch cock.

The only other thing that Brian was aware of in that moment was the sound of a singular running shower as Hunter's lips hungrily devoured his burgeoning cock, sliding around the coronal ridge and began swirling his tongue around his fully exposed, sensitive glans.

Hunter's growing expertise soon elicited an excited moan that Brian quickly tried to squelch, thrusting a hand over his own mouth as he heard the shower in the distance shut off and a single pair of footsteps faintly padding and shuffling in their direction...

<<<>>>

"That was phenomenal!" Matt McCormick groaned audibly before Blake smothered his mouth with his own, thrusting his long, thick wet tongue into his mouth for Matt to suck on greedily.

Matt could feel every square inch of Blake's massively swollen twelve-inch boner throbbing and jerking inside him as the last dregs of his third orgasm continued to seep from the palpitating, tennis ball-sized glans sheathed in the furthest depths of his bowels.

Though still wrapped around Blake's waist, locked at the ankles, Matt's legs felt like quivering jelly after the excoriating pummeling of Blake's near ceaseless assault of his anal canal, and as satiated as he was, his still cock hungry hole, which seemed to have a mind of its own, continued to suck noisily at the pulsating base of Blake's phallus, milking more and more splooge from his burgeoning schlong.

Blake finally pulled his lips from Matt's mouth, parting with a tight series of short affectionate pecks as he lifted the upper half of his torso until he hovered straight armed above his lover, to stare deeply into the depths of his beatific eyes.

"You're so fucking beautiful..." Blake moaned, his voice thick, deep and sultry, something that seemed to only elicit a pleasing mewling sound from Matt as he demurely squirmed beneath him, while his hips continued to gyrate suggestively as the swollen, undulating lips of his anus clamped vice like around the base of his cock in an attempt to deny it's extraction, even by a millimeter. Not that Blake wanted that either. But, they had been at it for over an hour and Blake knew that they were probably cutting it really close to the expected time when he knew his dad would be making it home from Panto's gym.

Blake leaned in once again, planting a soft kiss against Matt's welcoming lips: "I could spend the rest of my life joined like this if I could..." Blake posited, adding with a sigh: "But we gotta get cleaned up, my dad's going to be home soon and I'm not sure how he would take finding us like this."

As reluctant as he was to break the connection between them, Matt was forced to concur, even as he stubbornly fought against it by wrapping his arms around Blake's neck and pulling him down for another series of passionate kisses.

In the end, though, it was Matt who pushed Blake away, by thrusting his hands against Blake's sweaty, slightly hirsute chest until Blake slowly extricated his still fully engorged prong from his quivering, fleshy chasm.

Matt smiled in gratuitous satisfaction as Blake's rampant phallus slapped wetly against his own abdomen as the last inch of his dong slipped from the tight confines of his hole.

Staring down between them, Matt eyed wantonly, the still throbbing source of the most exquisite pleasure he had ever encountered. Marveling at its near hypnotic palpitations, Matt slid down between them, his right hand first cupping, then wrapping around the base of Blake's balls before pulling them down tightly in their sack as his flicking tongue sought contact with the girthy flesh of his cum drenched shaft.

Blake groaned uncontrollably as Matt's suckling lips wrapped sheath like around his glistening glans as he simultaneously pulled Blake's hips downward by his testicles, forcing Blake to bury the entire turgid length of his dick down Matt's hungrily sucking oral cavity.

"Damn Matty, I don't think I'll ever get tired of that," Blake exclaimed, exhaling sharply as Matt slowly pulled back until his dick plopped out of his mouth squeaky clean and stared up at him suggestively with a quirky sly grin on his face as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

Grasping his face between his hands, Blake kissed him once again before slipping from his grasp and jumping off his bed, while scanning his bedroom floor for his discarded sweat pants and T-shirt.

Reluctantly, Matt followed suit and soon they found themselves hungrily devouring the last of their pizza and scouring Blake's frig for more food and something cool to drink.

They had no sooner sat down at the small kitchen table and began consuming the leftover chili Blake's dad had made the day before when they heard Blake's father's truck pull into the adjoining garage.

Later, as Blake drove him home, they shared a mutual nervous laugh as they recalled the looks his father had given them when he entered the kitchen and the mischievous grin supplanting his facial expressions as he almost immediately excused himself, chuckling and shaking his head as he sauntered away, toting his gym bag back to his room.

"Do you think he suspected something?" Matt queried, thankful it was now dark enough outside that he was certain Blake couldn't see the crimson color of his cheeks as he blushed furiously.

'Who knows, all I can say is, that my dad has a really keen sense of smell." Blake paused for a moment as if reconsidering his choice of words before adding: "Does it really matter, either way, we're both eighteen and we didn't do anything most people our age aren't doing."

Matt just smiled back at him, silently wishing he could say the same, though thinking that he truly didn't really know how his parents might react if put in a similar situation.

They knew he was gay, but he didn't know how they would feel about him having sex with someone while under their roof.

As if sensing his unease, Blake changed the subject by letting him know, that whatever the outcome of placing the camera tomorrow, the one Talia had given him for coach Myer's office, that he wouldn't be able to join Matt and Talia that weekend as originally planned to review everything they had gathered thus far, stating that his father had informed him that they had to go to Lubbock to attend some meeting of the group his dad belonged too.

"My dad didn't say what it was about, just that we had to attend, so I don't really know when we'll be back." Blake sighed, just as he pulled up in front of Matt's house.

"Well... " Matt responded, with a hint of sadness in his voice: "I have to work Saturday, so I'm not really sure how much time I'm gonna have to devote to this project this weekend either, but I'm sure Talia and I can muddle through."

Blake just nodded his head: "If we get back earlier than expected, I'll give you a call, and maybe we can all get together then okay?"

Matt just smiled dreamily back at him: "Maybe we won't tell Talia that part.." his voice trailed off suggestively, leaving little doubt about his intentions.

"I like the way you think Mr. McCormick!" Blake responded, chuckling slightly as he leaned in and kissed Matt passionately.

<<<>>>

"That was just what the doctor ordered," Patrick McCormick thought to himself as he stretched out and massaged his achy muscles with his soapy hands as the warm water from the shower spigot in the Panto gym shower room, located off to the side of the empty locker room, cascaded down his wet, lithe body.

Patrick always loved this warm afterglow he got after one of his sessions with Rob Wiley, surprised each and every time, how little if any, the excitement had faded over the last ten years they had been hooking up. It was like Rob could read him just like a tech manual, taking him from point A to point B and every other letter of the alphabet, leaving him drained and contented both physically and mentally.

From the first time, he had met Rob, right after he opened his garage and he had driven into his shop to have him look at his squeaking breaks, the near electrical charged sexual chemistry between them had him swooning and pining for the single father of one; and why not? Rob Wiley was every inch his ideal of the perfect alpha male stud, the kind he had fantasized about since he was a boy just realizing he was gay and living a life of fear his strict mother instilled in him, from almost the time he was a toddler.

To his mom, homosexuals were filthy, dirty perverts, a sentiment all his male peers echoed throughout his youth. To her, there was nothing worse than being a queer, often citing, that the only good faggot was a dead one.

Luckily for Patrick, he had met Bev, his wife and the mother of their two sons, when he was in junior high school.

It was like they had been drawn together, almost instantly recognizing their somewhat shared circumstance.

Beverly had always been a bit of a tomboy growing up and upon reaching puberty, just like him, along with the burgeoning sexual hormones subsuming everyone they knew, it didn't take long before the negative correlations between Bev being a tomboy with being synonymous with her being a lesbo, and of course, earmarking her for the usual taunts and veiled threats. It had actually been a little easier for Patrick, he had learned long ago how to butch himself up and maintain his subterfuge.

It was at that time, not long after Patrick had his first encounter with another boy his age, that the fear of discovery drove them both to concoct and hatch their little ruse. For all outward appearances, they became boyfriend and girlfriend, while secretly enjoying the limited same sex encounters they had with others throughout the following years.

Their plan had worked so effectively, that when Patrick graduated high school and his mother started pressuring him to settle down and take over the family business and Bev, likewise unable to see any kind of future, with the limited resources available to her, that wouldn't have taken her away from her beloved Rhonda Shelton, the towns only wedding planner and florist, that they had mutually agreed to what they believed would be a sham marriage of convenience.

For a time, their plan had worked brilliantly, but as expectations grew for them to start a family, coupled with their own innate curiosity and generally amenable dispositions toward each other, they would, at times experiment with each other and while their awkward fumbling's had successfully garnered them two offspring, it had also revealed Bev's somewhat limited bisexual side.

They didn't engage in sex often and Patrick believed the only reason he had ever been able to do so in the first place was that, not long after they married, his one and only lover had moved away unexpectedly, leaving Patrick devoid of male companionship, other than the few times a year he would sojourn to some larger metropolitan area for his families business and availing himself of the local gay bars and clubs such places offered.

That is until Rob opened his shop some years later.

Patrick smiled lecherously as he recalled their many encounters since then, not surprised that such recollections now stirred his manhood once again and made his balls churn with anticipation.

He was almost ready to take matters in hand, when he heard the faint distant sound of the locker room doors opening before peripherally seeing two figures dart toward the bathroom stalls, knowing full well, that this late in the evening, during a weeknight, the only reason two men would be heading in that direction together, had little to do with necessity and more to do with desire, urgency and the relative privacy the toilet stalls would provide.

Brimming with curiosity and his own mounting libido, Patrick rinsed the soap from his body, and shut the water off, before boldly strutting toward, what he was sure would be, the perfect ending to an already satisfying evening.

<<<>>>

Brian McCormick couldn't believe his luck. Just moments ago he had been enjoying the feel of Hunter's lapping tongue greedily licking the sweat from his large hairy balls while his throbbing, ten and half inch erection bounced against Hunter's forehead as it continuously drooled dick dribble into the short scruffy hair on top of Hunter's head, when he had heard the showers in the distance shut off, followed by the thrumming patter of wet feet heading in their direction.

Hunter had cautioned him into silence as he silently pointed out the sizeable hole in the wooden partition that divided one toilet stall from the other.

Brian, of course, knew it for what it was, having seen glory holes frequently enough in other lavatories, but circumstances had never presented the opportunity or occasion to utilize one before. Until now.

As the door to the neighboring stall, right before theirs opened, Hunter rose from his kneeling position to stand beside him just in time to see the pair of bare knees drop below the partition wall and a single finger beckoned through the sizeable hole opening into the other side.

Both Hunter and Brian smiled wickedly at each other, but it was Brian, driven by pure, unadulterated lust, that thrust his burgeoning phallus, balls, and all through the aperture.

Almost instantly, wet pouting lips suckled at his piss slit, slurping up his seminal fluids as skilled fingers gripped his cum laden balls and began massaging them expertly.

The only thing Brian regretted at that moment, was not being able to grasp the head of his cocksucker and thrust his palpitating, aching schlong down his throat, and face fuck the hell out of him.

Though he was still rather new to all of this, it wasn't difficult to tell that the guy on the other side of the partition was far more experienced than Hunter at cock gobbling, not that Hunter was bad at it, but this guy was a natural, evidenced by the way he now slowly slide effortlessly down his steely rod until his quivering lips wrapped around the very base of his boner and began compressing the warm wet lining of his throat tightly against his embedded member, suckling like a nymphomaniac whore in heat.

Brian was so lost in the pleasure of the expert ministrations, he barely registered that Hunter had knelt behind him, not until he felt Hunter's wiggling tongue slip between his butt cheeks and begin lapping at his sweaty ass crack until he found his hairy bunghole and began swirling the tip against his brown eye in a tight circular motion.

The sensation had Brian nearly climbing the partition, torn between thrusting his cock deeper into the undulating maw of his faceless pud chomper or pushing his muscular ass cheeks back into Hunter's flicking tongue. Both sent waves of lurid passion excoriating throughout his entire body.

In the end, Brian just settled for firmly grasping the top of the partition with both hands and spreading his legs as wide as he could until he drove the last centimeter of his dick into the hungry mouth and exposed his spasming anus to Hunter's probing oral digit.

As a reward for his efforts, the head of his cocksucker bobbed faster and faster practically raping his own mouth on Brian's schlong while Hunter's tongue speared his pucker until the swirling tip assaulted his prostate, sending Brian over the edge into a whirling dervish of orgasmic fury.

Brian lost all sense of time and space as the tempest of his climax boiled from the depths of his gonads and began pistoning like a fire hose down the gulping mystery gullet in wave after body jerking wave of torrid exaltation.

By the time the surging tsunami of his primordial release began to abate to sporadic, uncontrollable jerks of his sweat soaked body, the guy on the other side of the partition, unsheathed his fleshy sword from the cum drenched confines of his oral cavity and murmured a quick "thanks" before withdrawing almost as quickly as he had arrived, leaving Brian to release his grip from the partition as he pushed his hips back into Hunter's face and used his hands to reach around behind him and pull Hunter's face and tongue deeper into the cleavage of his ass.

Normally, Brian required a few minutes to recover before he was ready to go again, but the new sensation of Hunter's twirling tongue in his rectum, kept him rock hard and hovering on the precipice of carnal desire.

Overcome by lurid passion, Brian spun around and hoisted Hunter to his feet before spinning him around, shoving his face into the wall while pulling his hips toward him, and kicking his legs apart before ramming the full length of his throbbing cock, balls deep, into Hunter's tight dick ditch.

Luckily for Hunter, there were still lingering traces of cum and spit coating Brian's turgid wanger, enough at least to lube the way for the ferocity of his unrelenting anal assault.

In the short time, they had become fuck buddies, Hunter had thought he was at last beginning to handle Brian's erstwhile, energetic couplings as well as the prodigious size of Brian's big cock, but with each passing day, Brian seemed to excel beyond his expectations.

He knew Matt had given his brother one of Dr. Ventrov's supplements, he wasn't blind to the effect that stuff had had on his own libido as well as the changes to his own body. But, whatever Matt had given Brian seemed to be pushing him beyond what he and the others were experiencing.

Not only had Brian's stamina increased but Hunter had noticed the increase in his muscle mass, his overall size, weight, and height, and of course, the dimensional expansion of his cock and balls.

Each day became a new challenge to accommodate Brian's surging size and needs and as Brain plowed his aching asshole like a pile driving jackhammer, he found himself wondering where it might all end and how long would he be able to handle Brian's mounting needs. Not that he was complaining. Despite the discomfort, he often found himself drawn to the man like a moth to flame and though he was always left aching and sore after their coupling's, it also left him with a deep seated sense of gratification he had never felt or experienced with anyone else before.

And then there were the moments afterward, when he was sweaty and exhausted and Brian, temporarily sated, would pull Hunter to him, resting his head on Brian's furry chest, and while he listened to the calming, steady beat of Brian's heart, Brian would stroke his hair and plant soft kisses to his forehead.

If truth be told, there were times, Hunter didn't know which he liked most, but at the moment, the mounting fury of Brian's fervor was drawing to its inexorable conclusion sucking Hunter back into the moment as the unrelenting tidal expulsion of his own lascivious fervor, culminated in the searing blast of his own ejaculation to splatter against the wall of the partition in rapid succession, painting it in the bountiful harvest of his own volcanic release, just as Brian erupted jet after jet of blistering ball juice into the abused depths of his palpitating anus.

As they both nearly collapsed to the cold tile floor, each gasping for breath, Brian hugged Hunter closely to him while nearly panting into his ear: "A man could get used to this baby."

Hunter smiled serenely, enjoying the feel of Brian's powerful arms around him as he planted tender kisses to the nape of his neck while his still rock-hard cock, pulsated deeply in the warm depths of his ravaged, cum dripping hole.

<<<>>>

"So, what's the plan Doc?"

Chuck Myers's query hung in the air like an accusation, in part because it was. It wasn't like he couldn't read, nor could he ignore what he saw every time he turned his TV on or some news blurb drew attention in censoriously crafted sound bytes in-between songs on whatever radio channel he listened to.

Everyone on the planet was talking about it.

Mikal Ventrov however seemed unperturbed, or what Chuck Myers might consider a bit smug, especially coming from the otherwise emotionally detached man he had come to know over the last couple of years.

Barely shrugging his shoulders as he continued pouring over the scrolling data on the electronic pad he always seemed so focused on, his response came as no surprise: "I can assure you, Coach Myers, that everything is happening just as predicted and everything is well in hand."

Chuck snorted surreptitiously, sardonically emphasizing his and his contacts at the Pentagon's growing doubts, despite the good Doctor's assurances and seemingly ill-placed optimism.

His skeptical reaction didn't pass by unnoticed, garnering him a quick stern look from the raven-haired Ukrainian before he set the pad down and leaned forward at his desk, located in the small office right off the secured private lab deep in the bowels of the ReGen Pharmaceutical labs.

Chuck watched as the usually imperturbable, stoic Doctor steepled his index fingers vertically across his the center of face as his chin rested on his thumbs and his dark, brooding eyes glowered back at him from across the desk.

Myers knew this for what it was. This was meant to intimidate; this cold icy glare was what Mikal deployed to silence his underlings or the ones he felt were beneath him, whenever they dared to question one of his orders, and while it seemed an effective deterrent to most of his staff, it in fact held little sway over him now.

But, as he had done so many times in the past, Chuck Myer's cast his gaze downward, affording the illusion of capitulation, while his thoughts stayed laser focused on the matters at hand: "I'm only asking because I've been hearing rumors from acquaintances still connected at the Pentagon, that they are growing concerned that this little project of yours might not deliver as promised, considering the current state of affairs in Ukraine."

In the years he had known Dr. Ventrov, he had never once heard the man laugh, but the guttural chuckle that escaped his lips sent an icy chill down his spine. It reeked of an arrogance suborn from pure contempt.

It was moments like this, that Specialist Sgt. Charles Myers of the USMC wondered how much longer he would have to maintain this subterfuge.

He had spent over two years training for just this kind of mission, and ever since the higher ups at the Pentagon had caught wind of Doctor Mikal Ventrov's experiments into eugenics sponsored by some nefarious rogue faction within their own ranks, high up within the chain of command, and in league with some deep pocket international consortium, they had sent him in to go deep undercover to do whatever was necessary to gain the Doctor's trust and to not only secure the Doctor's research but to learn everything he could toward their end goals as well as the who, what, when and why's to their endgame.

It became apparent, almost right from the start, that the only way he would ever have any attempt at garnering the Doctor's trust, was to feign such an interest and commonality to his cause as to appear disenfranchisement with not only his military career but his sworn duty to defend his country as well as any loyalty or fealty he felt for the chain of command.

That's why he had made it appear as though he had left the military, had broken all ties that the Doctor knew of with those loyal to the Pentagon, and penultimately submitted himself to becoming one of the Doctor's guinea pigs.

It had been a very bold risk on his part, especially since a number of his previous human attempts had not ended so well. The remembrance of which, even now made him shudder mentally, picturing what he himself had read and seen of those poor souls, reminding himself, that he could have just as easily counted himself amongst them had he not survived his own experimental treatments.

Survived, he thought to himself. Though it galled him to believe that what has been done to him was somehow a fortunate state of grace, in comparison to a few who yet lingered, in albeit questionable states of comparative existence, he could take solace in the fact that at least, for the most part, he could still interact and pass, as still human.

There were still those contained within the deepest recesses of this facility, secured away from all prying eyes, a few of the Doctor's less than successful endeavors. Some, he had even once considered being friends and comrades, but now...?

It was as much to honor them as it was for the importance of his mission, that he became obsessed with seeing this through to the end, no matter the personal cost.

Doctor Ventrov eased back into his chair, eyeing him speculatively, those dark beady eyes ever assessing him and everything else around him, as if seeing the world around him through a lens no one else could fathom.

"I assure you, Coach Myers.." he stated matter of fact, in his usual cold, analytical tone: "Everything goes just as the One has planned."

Sgt. Myers didn't doubt that it did, but what he didn't know, and the very reason he was still tolerating this monster to draw breath into his lungs and why those still retaining a tenuous control over the military and government still charged him to do, was who this supposed "One" was and what his game plan is. So he played his part by masking it as the ignorance and doubt of an underling, skeptical of the true depth, breadth, and scope of the machinations playing out on the world stage.

"So the plan is to let a lunatic like Putin unleash World War Three on the world and destroy the whole planet in a nuclear war no one could possibly win?"

The smirk that appeared on Ventrov's face spoke volumes: "Putin is a puppet, just like that fool Zelenskyy. This minor skirmish is a mere distraction while the One clears the playing field and forges the foundations to his new empire."

Chuck knew he was probably pushing it, but as the old saying goes "Fortune favors the bold" so he queried, with what faux enthusiasm he could muster: "Then we are close to finishing here and joining him on the field of battle?"

There was a dark twinkle in Dr. Ventrov's eye he had never seen before as the somewhat sanguine grin spread further across his countenance: "That all depends on our young friend Matthew now, doesn't it?"

Sgt. Myers knew this already, but he needed the doctor to believe in his naivete and devotion to his cause, but more than that, he needed to make sure that whatever Ventrov hoped to gain from Matt McCormick, that it never falls into his hands or under his control, for, he knew, the entire fate and future of all mankind may depend upon it.