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Mike and his Pecs: Room Service

By <[email protected]>

 

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Author's Note: The author's previous stories featuring Mike and his pectoral adventures were written  way back in 2007 and may be found most easily at this link. The author would like to thank one of his fans and real-life musclegod Elvis for providing the inspiration and encouragement of late to resume writing from where he had left. This story is dedicated to him and his body of work. (For those curious, Elvis can be found, and followed, on Twitter and Instagram .)

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Scene 1: Mike

Mike was dog-tired as he swiped his key-card, entered his room and flung himself on the soft and springy bed at the elegant five-star hotel he was putting up in, or was rather being put up in. It was 1.00 AM and he had had a long day. He was in the city to audition for a photoshoot for a men’s fitness magazine. It was his final year in college and he was hoping to get a break in the fitness industry before graduating. He had put in a lot of hard work into developing the masterly physique that he now possessed, and which readers will know was a subject of widespread admiration, adoration and worship amongst his college mates. More particularly, his extremely well-developed and sculpted pecs, “aesthetically disproportionate” in size, were the crowning glory of his physique. All the long hours of hard work at gym that he put in to develop them, every bit of determination that he put into those excruciating last reps of bench press and cable crossovers, willing himself each time to go for one more, to literally craft his pecs into the shapely mass of muscular perfection that they had now become, was more than adequately compensated by the appreciation they received from pec-admirers wherever he went. In fact, what had started off as a closed club of pec worshippers in his college dorm four years back had now grown, thanks to social media, into a global following of sorts. His Instagram page, aptly titled “mike_juicypecs”, which he had set up just six months back to showcase his physique and share his fitness regimen and lifestyle with fans, now had over 10K followers already! In fact, it was through the Instagram posts that he had been spotted by a talent scout and had landed today’s audition in the big city.

 

As he lay on the bed thinking over the day’s work and hoping he had put his best foot (or rather pec) forward during the photoshoot, he realized he hadn’t anything since the morning and was famished. The hour was late, and he quickly looked up the room service menu and ordered some sandwiches and a glass of orange juice since that was practically all that was available in the 24x7 menu. The receptionist informed him politely that the service would take around 30 minutes and hung up. Mike reckoned that half an hour was enough time to take a quick shower and proceeded to the bathroom.

 

The bathroom was a well-appointed one, complete with a jacuzzi shower and a bathtub, and lined with large mirrors as is typical in these fancy hotels. As Mike stood before the mirror, about to take off his clothes, he couldn’t help but admire his physique for a moment. He had taken off his denim jeans in the room itself, and was now staring at his reflection, clad in a muscle-hugging t-shirt and a pair of boxers. The fabric of the t-shirt enveloped the contours of his muscular torso perfectly, wrapping around his pecs and accentuating their form. He flexed his arms into the mirror, watching with pleasure the peak rise up and push against the edges of the sleeve that was barely able to contain what it was meant to. Mike flexed and unflexed a couple of times, and the tight sleeve decided to relent by withdrawing backwards and exposing the flexed bicep with its short head that accentuated the peak in all its splendour. Mike had been shredding for the past few weeks in preparation for the shoot, and noted with pleasure the thick vein that snaked over the middle of his bicep before losing its way into the maze of other veins that criss-crossed his thick and vascular forearms. Next, Mike took off his t-shirt (albeit with some difficulty) and stared at his fully exposed upper body. Going over the poses he had struck during the day’s photoshoot, he repeated some of them, just to see how he would have looked in them. Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all. Craving for feedback from a wider audience, he picked up his phone and clicked a photo of himself in his boxers, winking at his reflection, one hand holding the phone and the other gently squeezing a relaxed pec.  As he shared it with his followers on his IG page, he added a cocky caption: “Waiting for some meat and juice after a hard day’s work! #bodybuilder #fitness #instafit #pecs #chest #hungry #tired”

 

Finally, he threw off his boxers and took one last glance at his completely nude self. He realized he was semi-erect from all the flexing and self-admiration and decided he would relieve himself in the jacuzzi. Keeping his phone on the wash basin, Mike moved into the shower cubicle and turned on the water.  After fiddling with the taps to get the temperature right, he closed his eyes, pointed his face upwards and surrendered to the warm and caressing jets of water that came at him from every direction. His phone had already started bleeping notifications from fans who had started liking and commenting on his latest pic, but he couldn’t care less. Taking some soap, gently worked up a lather all over his arms, abs and chest. He took particular care to massage his pecs, feeling their mass and density under his fingers as he squeezed them from every angle. Oh, how relaxing it was to play with all the water, the lather and the muscles. He loved how the water streams raining down on him coursed their way from his neck, coursing over his thick upper pecs, through and over and around his inflated lower pecs, some of them choosing to flow down the deep chasm that separated his two pec-mounds continuing to drain into the washboard that were his eight-pack abs , while others took the more adventurous route of trying to trace the contours of his pecs, only to scatter away and disperse as they hit the nipples! It was almost as if the water too were playing with his muscles along with him. Before long, Mike realize that his cock was now erect from all the self-worshipping that he was indulging in, and as was his wont on such occasions, he poured some more soap on his left palm and began to gently stroke his cock while caressing his sensitive right nipple with the other hand. As he closed his eyes moaning n pleasure, he wished he had some assistance from his friend Chris, who, if present now, would have sucked the daylights out of those nipples, engorging them with blood and filling him with ecstacy. But alas, tonight it would have to be self-service, Mike reckoned and continued to stroke himself more vigorously while feeling himself up with his spare hand, flexing his pecs to feel the striations, relaxing them to squeeze them hard, and sometimes clawing through his eight-pack abs with his fingers to feel the corrugations. His cock was now leaking profuse amounts of precum, and he could feel he was very close to cumming. As he arched his back and stepped up the tempo to the fifth and final gear for the last few seconds of accelerated thrusting and stroking, the doorbell rang and Mike stopped dead in his tracks. “Room service please” was the muffled voice that he could discern from the distance.

 

Scene 2: Marcel

 

Let us for a moment leave our young, muscular friend in the throes of frenzied masturbation and introduce the other dramatis persona of this story: twenty-one year old Marcel. Marcel was a fresh graduate from the hotel management academy, and was interning at the very same hotel where our protagonist has been put up. As is the case with most interns, he was assigned to work night shift whenever a member of the regular staff was on leave, and tonight was no different. But Marcel never complained about night shifts. In fact, he loved them because the hotel would mostly be quiet at night after midnight, there would be very few room service requests, and he would have ample time to himself. Most of this he employed watching various series on Netflix and generally fooling around on social media. Marcel, though of light build himself, happened to be a great fan of muscles, pecs in particular , and by a curious coincidence, was surfing through the handle of  mike_juicypecs that night, as he pushed the service trolley along the corridor that housed Mike’s room. He had started following Mike recently, and was really in awe of his outstanding physique. What he liked most was the fact that not only did Mike have the perfect physique he could imagine any guy to have and the juiciest pair of pecs that ever graced the torso of man, he also had this air of self-confidence bordering on cockiness which was evident from the way in which he showed off his body to his followers. Mike posted photos and videos of his workouts and lifestyle regularly, knew how best to show off his muscles, hit the right poses, click from the right angles and put on the right clothes that would leave very little to imagination and keep his followers asking for more. Take for instance the short video that he had posted a couple of days back of his sweaty chest, flexing and unflexing his massive bags of meat in a white tank top that emphasized the thickness of the muscle. The lighting was just perfect, with one pec casting a shadow over his abs, just to underscore the fact that the overhang was real! And as if that weren’t all, he was wearing a chain around his neck that, on account of the well-developed nature of his upper chest and his thick traps had succumbed to the contours of the muscles and settled into a V shape between his pecs, instead of dangling in the form of a U. The caption really gave away his teasing nature: “Necklaces will never fit me properly <dunno emoji>.” The video was set to loop over and over again as Mike flexed and relaxed his full, thick, deep, striated pecs and that drove Marcel crazy. In his own fertile imagination, he even believed that with his right, vein-traversed forearm that was not completely visible in the video, Mike was actually jerking himself off; whereas in reality Mike was only bringing his arm forward and backward in a flexing motion.

As Marcel trudged along the long hotel corridor, little did he know that he was headed towards the object of his many fantasies. He had just “liked” Mike’s latest post from a few minutes back and was just not able to get over the image of Mike standing in front of a bathroom mirror, playfully caressing one of his pecs while winking at the mirror. How he wished the hand that was squeezing the plump, juicy pec and making the ripe, sensitive, otherwise downward-pointing nipple stand up as if to check what was happening was not Mike’s but his own! Casting aside such wishful thoughts that were beginning to make him horny, Marcel looked around himself to locate the correct door where the food as destined. Pressing the bell, he cried out,” Room service please!”

 

 

Scene 3: Mike and Marcel

 

It is not often that one finds oneself in Mike’s position, having to choose between answering a doorbell and blowing one’s load. Mike, as we have seen, was strokes away from splattering the walls of the shower cabinet with volleys of thick, warm cum when the doorbell rang. He could have ignored it, continued with the stroking, and once done, finished his shower, dressed up and then answered the door. The valet would still have waited, no doubt, as he was trained to wait. But Mike, as readers are well aware, had a naughty, exhibitionist side to himself – a side that was now brought to the fore by the fact that he was aroused to the bone, dripping pre-cum almost like a faucet and craving for some worship. It didn’t take Mike long to decide his next course of action.

 

Turning off the shower, Mike cried out aloud, “Just a moment! I’ll be right there.” The lather having already washed off his body while he was busy jerking himself, he pulled a towel from the rack and quickly dried himself. Then, attempting to wrap the towel around his waist, he realized his cock, now eight-inches erect and pointing horizontally, refused to yield. Smiling to himself, he forced the towel around it (which now clearly stuck out like a tentcloth over a pole), stepped out of the bathroom, walked up to the door and opened it just as the Marcel the valet was about to press the bell again.

 

 

It took Marcel ten long seconds to come to terms with what he was seeing in front of him as the door opened. For a moment, he thought he was still stuck in his fantasy of mike_juicypecs from Instagram, and he stood there staring with his jaws dropped and eyes wide open. It was only when Mike waved his hand in front of his eyes that his reverie broke and he realized that the fantastic and the real had actually together! Standing in front of him was a prime specimen of male physicality and the very object of his recent dreams, fresh from a shower going by the fragrance that he was giving off and clothed in nothing but a towel.

“I’m sorry for this… I was just taking a shower when the bell rang”, said Mike sheepishly to the dumbstruck Marcel. “Why don’t you come in and set the food on the table right there while I put on some clothes ?”

“S..s..sure, Sir”, blurted Marcel, still scanning every inch of that exaggerated anatomy chart standing before him with his eyes. He soaked in Mike’s sheepishly grinning face (which was familiar to him), his thick neck supported by thicker traps, giving way to boulder-like shoulders to which were attached his muscled arms covered in blood-engorged veins. And those pecs! Yes, they seemed real, full and juicy, protruding out and casting their shadow on his abdominals in the dim light of the foyer, twitching ever so slightly as Mike stood there holding the door open with one hand, the other resting casually over his ripped abs in a caressing motion.  To his absolute horror (or rather incredulity), Marcel’s eyes fell on the protruded portion of the towel just below the waist, and realizing what it meant, he was once again frozen still, unable to takes his eyes off the damp patch in the towel which had now developed owing to all the precum that Mike was still leaking owing to the aborted jerkoff session. Marcel didn’t know what to think or say or do, so he just followed Mike’s cue as he stepped aside to let him pass, and he entered with the food trolley and headed towards the table indicated in the corner of the room, across the bed.

 

Mike wasn’t surprised by this reaction and was quite used to it by now. He was in the mood to play along and see where this led. As Marcel was setting the table, he went to the wardrobe and changed into a skimpy tank-top and a pair of boxer shorts, his cock still hard in anticipation of what was to come. By the time he was dressed, the valet had finished with his table-laying and was waiting nervously holding the check. Mike knew he had to give the poor fellow a reason to stay on in the room. So, signing the check, he asked, “Do I look familiar to you, Mr…..”.

 

“The name’s Marcel, Sir”. 

 

“Marcel. You were staring at me when I opened the door. Did I remind you of someone perhaps?”

“No Sir”, said Marcel, shamefaced. “Actually, I’m a follower on your Instagram and a great fan of your physique…so I just couldn’t believe I was seeing you in person. Sorry if I appeared stupid.”

 

“That’s wonderful, Marcel. Don’t be sorry”, said Mike. “Always a pleasure meeting an admirer in person!” And then after a pause, “Look Marcel, if you’re not terribly busy, why don’t you stick around here for a bit while I finish my meal and I could hit some poses for you after that if you’d like ?”

 

Marcel couldn’t believe his ears. He began to stutter and stammer searching for an appropriate response when Mike urged once again: “You’ve saved me from death by hunger today, Marcel, and it would be my way of saying thank you. So please stay, and help yourself to some beer from the minifridge if you like.”

 

Marcel gleefully acquiesced, and the both of them, muscle god and admirer, sat down to their late evening meal. As Mike ate and Marcel drunk, they got around to small talk, Marcel did most of the talking, telling Mike how he adored his physique, showing him the photos and videos that he particularly loved (and had jerked off to) and how he still felt he was in a dream. As one beer gave way to another, Mike egged him on to share his fantasies and learnt that his pectorals had long been the object of the valet’s fantasies. Finishing up his meal, Mike said to Marcel: “Time for the flex show, buddy! Why don’t you take off your uniform and get comfortable on the bed while I set things up? “

 

Marcel hesitated, not sure if he heard Mike right. “T-t-take off my uniform, Sir ?” he stuttered.

 

“Well, let’s say it is best you did that to optimize the viewing experience”, grinned Mike, as he disappeared into the bathroom. Marcel couldn’t think clearly any more, and did what he was told like an obedient child. He stripped down to his vest and underwear and perched himself on the bed waiting anxiously for the muscle hunk to come out. Mike, in the meanwhile, had planned everything out in his mind. He felt in total control of the situation and was enjoying the plight of the hapless admirer who didn’t yet know he was up for the most mind-blowing experience of his life. He put on a tight spandex t-shirt and a pair of tight spandex briefs, for he knew that the material showed off the topography of his muscles the best. A fan had once remarked that his pecs looked like inflated rubber balloons when he wore spandex, and that was exactly what they looked like now as he flexed them to perfection in the mirror. Coming out of the bathroom, he was glad to see that the valet had complied with his advice to part with his uniform.

 

“Here we go.”, said Mike as he began to flex. “You can take pictures now, but you’ll know when to stop.” added Mike with a wink. Mike started by flexing his bicep peaks which stretched the material of the shirt to tolerance. He then showed off his tricep striations that made a horse-shoe formation when he flexed them; he then showed off his pectorals by turning sideways and standing upright with his arms behind his back, so that Marcel could appreciate the smooth contours and the thickness of the pec-shelf that hung over his abs. The spandex accentuated his profile by making the nipples stick out under the fabric and also hugging the undulations of his abs. Marcel was transfixed; he didn’t say much but instead kept staring in amazement at the display before him. Unbeknownst to him, his cock was noe erect as if in salute to the muscle show and his underwear was stained with precum.

 

“Phew!”, said Mike, waking Marcel from his reverie. Pointing to his dick,  he said: “Guess you’re enjoying what you see, going by that.”

 

Marcel was once again utterly embarrassed but didn’t care any more. There was no way he could get through this without surrendering completely to the muscle god standing before him. Without uttering a word, he threw off his underwear, exposing his dripping and erect cock. “Yes Sir, I do like what I see Please go on.”

 

Mike smiled and said, “Much better.” and lifted his t-shirt, not taking it off entirely but letting it rest two-thirds of the way up,  just on top of his pecs so that the upper pecs were partly covered but the pendulous lower portion was exposed, peeping out from under the cloth. In this configuration, he struck another double-bicep pose, driving his admirer mad with lust with the erotic scene of both his best-developed muscle groups - his biceps and pecs - just partly covered and stretching beyond belief in a tantalizing fashion, as if urging the viewer to reach for them and tear off the rest of the fabric to release the muscles in all their glory. He then  pulled the t-shirt over his head (his lats flaring out like wings as he did that) and threw it away. His pecs bounced, as if with relief at being liberated from the suffocation of the spandex. He was now only in his briefs and his own engorged cock too was crying out from under the fabric. He turned to the valet who had now begun stroking his cock and said: “I’m told my pecs feel better than they look. Why don’t you come over and tell me if that’s true? “

 

Marcel was no longer hesitant. Dripping wet, he walked over to Mike and placed his fists on his pecs, gently squeezing them. They yielded to his precum-soaked fingers, and felt soft like some well-kneaded dough. Just as he dug his claws into them to squeeze them as hard as he could, Mike flexed them into tension and Marcel realized that what felt like dough had suddenly turned to unyielding rock. He tried squeezing the flexed pec with all his might but to no avail. Mike then rippled his pecs, displaying his striations one by one and asked Marcel to feel the “waves” with his palms as he exhibited this feat of muscle control that only an insanely shredded musclegod can, flexing his muscle fibers one by one. Relaxing them, he asked Marcel to kneel and look up to his pecs as he flexed them. “You see, the angle makes all the difference!”, said Mike as he bunched his pecs into what looked like two footballs touching each other from Marcel’s vantage point below. Watching from that angle, Marcel appreciated how massive Mike’s pecs really were. They almost hid his face except for what was visible through the narrow valley that separated the two muscles. Marcel instinctively reached out and fondled them , also rubbing his hands over his ripped and shredded abs. At this point, his hands wandered over to Mike’s briefs that were totally failing to contain his erect eight-incher. Not only was Mike leaking precum like Marcel, he was actually precumming at such a rate that trails of cum were trickling down from under the wet briefs and over his muscled thighs, right down to his feet! Marcel thought for a moment that Mike had blown his load from all the flexing and worship, but Mike corrected him: “Don’t worry, Mr Valet. That’s still precum. And there’s more of it where it came from, trust me!” So saying, Mike took off his spandex briefs and threw them into some corner of the room. His eight-incher (or was it nine now ?) sprang up hitting the kneeling Marcel in the face and slathering his cheeks with a generous smear of hot precum. “It’s much better this way”, he said as he stood Marcel up, pulling him to the bed.

 

“You’ve seen and felt my pecs. Would you like to taste them too, since I’ve also been told they taste better than they feel?” said Mike.

 

“I would very much like to do that, Sir. In fact, if you will permit, may I suck your nipples?”, asked the valet.

 

Mike smiled and indicated consent. As he lay down on the bed, Marcel nestled in next to him. Both of them were by now completely naked, and Mike’s cock stood upright like a thick pole. Marcel grabbed it with his fist and began stroking, simultaneously setting his mouth to one of Mike’s nipples and  sucking hard on it. Mike moaned with pleasure and submitted willingly to this act of worship. Marcel turned out to be a great sucker, lubricating the nipple with his tongue and sucking at it like there was no tomorrow. At the same time, the gentle stroking action on his cock continued, and with each stroke, Mike kept spewing out trickles of precum making a wet mess of the sheets. Marcel felt he could do this for ever as he released his mouth from the nipple he was sucking to admire the effect. So vigorously had he sucked at it that it had swollen to almost twice its original size, the areola wet with his saliva and looking disproportionately large compared to the other nipple that hadn’t received his attention yet. He decided to set it right and shifted to the other side, sucking the other nipple while continuing to stroke Mike’s cock making him moan uncontrollably with pleasure. When he was done with it, he compared both nipples to satisfy himself that they were now equal in size. His own cock was beginning to twitch leak and profusely and he felt he would explode any moment without even having to jerk his cock. Marcel decided it was best to relent now as he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He was surprised at Mike’s capability to withstand his continuous stroking, all the while emitting more and more precum when he was about to blow his load without touching his cock even once.

 

He said to Mike, almost pleading with him: “Sir, I think I will cum now. Can’t withstand this any more!”

 

“So soon?”, quizzed Mike jokingly, “Just relax. Catch a breath, buddy. Time for a break.”. The naked Mike got up from the bed and walked across to the minifridge. His nipples were pointier and more engorged than before, and shiny wet from all the licking and sucking. The heavy pecs jiggled under their own weight. His abs and thighs were slathered with the precum that Marcel had pumped out of his throbbing dick, and his skin glistened as a result. From his thick, erect cock was suspended a strand of sticky precum reaching down to his feet. As he bent to open the fridge, Mike’s glutes parted to reveal his tight ass and Marcel had to close his eyes to this extremely erotic sight just to prevent himself from loosing his load involuntarily. Mike pulled out two cans of chilled beer and tossed one at Marcel. “You may wanna pour some over that eager boner of yours to calm it down”, he joked. Marcel eagerly gulped the beer down, while Mike carried his to the sofa and sat back, relaxing. He switched on the TV and fiddled with the channels to divert Marcel’s mind from the muscle worship and help him cool down. After a couple of beers, Mike rose and went to the bathroom. Marcel could hear the sound of water being turned on and the tub being filled. After a few minutes, Mike popped out of the bathroom and said: “Come on, buddy. Let’s finish it off with a nice and cosy bubble bath. You scratch my back, I scratch yours, quite literally!”

 

Marcel gulped down the last sip of beer from his can and joined Mike in the bathroom. The tub was large, designed for two and brimming with foam, bubbles and steam. Mike entered first, moaning with pleasure as the warm frothy water engulfed his tired muscled. Marcel followed, snuggling in beside him and soaking in the water with delight. As he felt Mike’s skin against his body, his cock was erect once again. He soaped every square inch of Mike’s body with a loofah, bestowing special attention as usual on his pecs. Ever time the rough-textured loofah brushed over his sensitive nipples, Mike ooh-aahed with pleasure, and Marcel, enjoying the reaction, did it again and again to drive Mike crazy. Marcel was now seated astride Mike’s abs, massaging his pecs with both hands when Mike suddenly pulled him closer to himself. As a result, his cock slid into the valley between his pecs, and seizing this opportunity, Mike flexed his pecs and locked his cock in. Marcel moaned with pleasure as precum oozed from his dick, rolling into the soapy terrain of Mike’s upper pec shelf.

 

“Got you!” said Mike, as he held the flex. Marcel could feel the tough striated fibers of Mike’s pecs clench his cock in place in the deep valley between, and he could in no way wrench it free. Mike then released his grasp by relaxing his pecs, only to flex them once again. The rhythm continued and Marcel realized he was being subjected to what our readers are familiar as a “pec-job”, something which Mike had mastered in his dorm when he first learnt the pleasures of pec worship. The hapless Marcel moaned louder with every squeeze, finally crying out: “….Sir, if you don’t stop, I’ll…….aaaaaaaahhhhhhh….”

 

The valet came. And as he came, he moaned with pleasure. Pleasure he had not known he was capable of experiencing. And thick ropes of cum shot out and landed on Mike’s chin, some of them going for his mouth, nose and eyes while others filled trickled down his pec-valley settling into the groves between his abs. As the moaning Marcel was gradually drained of the last drop of cum in him, Mike let his cock loose from his pec-grasp and wiped the cum off his face.

 

“You’ve almost plastered me in cum !”, said Mike stepping out of the tub, amazed at his capacity to shoot.

 

“Sir, allow me to return the favour. Can I suck your cock please? “ asked Marcel who had managed to recover his senses.

 

“With pleasure”, answered Mike, whose cock was now thick, hard and wet all over. “But mind you, I tend to cum a lot so….”. Before Mike could finish, Marcel knelt, took Mike’s massive dick into this mouth and began giving him a blow job. At first , its girth came in the way but eventually he was able to take Mike all in, deepthroating him effortlessly while reaching out with his hands to feel his pecs. Mike moaned in ecstatic pleasure, and took both his hands and guided them over his muscled torso, making him feel the varied contours of his pecs, abs, forearms, biceps, triceps, glutes… Marcel increased the tempo of his sucking, even as his mouth overflowed from the precum alone that Mike’s capacious cock was spewing into it. His hands now wildly clutched, fondled and squeezed Mike’s magnificent pecs, kneading those juicy meatballs till it drive Mike over the edge.

 

“I am gonna cum…..” cried Mike.

 

And he came. Finally. After what felt like an eternity of worship, Mike blew his load. The first few volleys were delivered into Marcels’ mouth. He then pushed Marcel away, taking his cum-spewing cock out in time to prevent him from choking. He directed the subsequent volleys at Marcel’s face, neck, chest, abs… The force with which he ejected cum was immense, the ropes were thick, and before long, he had covered Marcel from head to toe in his cum, twice over.

 

He came for what seemed like minutes. Maybe three or four long minutes before the cum died out. He didn’t remember cumming so profusely ever before. He looked down at Marcel who was now on the bathroom floor, cloaked in his cum. He lifted him up, and wiping the cum from his eyes, showed him his ghost-like reflection in the mirror. They both had a good laugh.

 

Mike helped Marcel wash the cum off his body in the shower; Marcel once again scrubbed Mike all over with soap; having bathed and cleaned themselves, they towelled each other dry and emerging from the bathroom, went directly to bed. As sleep overcame Mike and Marcel, the chirping of birds announced the break of day outside.

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Postscript: If this story made you cum, or horny AF at least, do let the author know by commenting here or dropping a mail to <[email protected]>.

 

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boardman
4 hours ago, pecster said:

Mike and his Pecs: Room Service

By <[email protected]>

 

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Author's Note: The author's previous stories featuring Mike and his pectoral adventures were written  way back in 2007 and may be found most easily at this link. The author would like to thank one of his fans and real-life musclegod Elvis for providing the inspiration and encouragement of late to resume writing from where he had left. This story is dedicated to him and his body of work. (For those curious, Elvis can be found, and followed, on Twitter and Instagram .)

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Scene 1: Mike

Mike was dog-tired as he swiped his key-card, entered his room and flung himself on the soft and springy bed at the elegant five-star hotel he was putting up in, or was rather being put up in. It was 1.00 AM and he had had a long day. He was in the city to audition for a photoshoot for a men’s fitness magazine. It was his final year in college and he was hoping to get a break in the fitness industry before graduating. He had put in a lot of hard work into developing the masterly physique that he now possessed, and which readers will know was a subject of widespread admiration, adoration and worship amongst his college mates. More particularly, his extremely well-developed and sculpted pecs, “aesthetically disproportionate” in size, were the crowning glory of his physique. All the long hours of hard work at gym that he put in to develop them, every bit of determination that he put into those excruciating last reps of bench press and cable crossovers, willing himself each time to go for one more, to literally craft his pecs into the shapely mass of muscular perfection that they had now become, was more than adequately compensated by the appreciation they received from pec-admirers wherever he went. In fact, what had started off as a closed club of pec worshippers in his college dorm four years back had now grown, thanks to social media, into a global following of sorts. His Instagram page, aptly titled “mike_juicypecs”, which he had set up just six months back to showcase his physique and share his fitness regimen and lifestyle with fans, now had over 10K followers already! In fact, it was through the Instagram posts that he had been spotted by a talent scout and had landed today’s audition in the big city.

 

As he lay on the bed thinking over the day’s work and hoping he had put his best foot (or rather pec) forward during the photoshoot, he realized he hadn’t anything since the morning and was famished. The hour was late, and he quickly looked up the room service menu and ordered some sandwiches and a glass of orange juice since that was practically all that was available in the 24x7 menu. The receptionist informed him politely that the service would take around 30 minutes and hung up. Mike reckoned that half an hour was enough time to take a quick shower and proceeded to the bathroom.

 

The bathroom was a well-appointed one, complete with a jacuzzi shower and a bathtub, and lined with large mirrors as is typical in these fancy hotels. As Mike stood before the mirror, about to take off his clothes, he couldn’t help but admire his physique for a moment. He had taken off his denim jeans in the room itself, and was now staring at his reflection, clad in a muscle-hugging t-shirt and a pair of boxers. The fabric of the t-shirt enveloped the contours of his muscular torso perfectly, wrapping around his pecs and accentuating their form. He flexed his arms into the mirror, watching with pleasure the peak rise up and push against the edges of the sleeve that was barely able to contain what it was meant to. Mike flexed and unflexed a couple of times, and the tight sleeve decided to relent by withdrawing backwards and exposing the flexed bicep with its short head that accentuated the peak in all its splendour. Mike had been shredding for the past few weeks in preparation for the shoot, and noted with pleasure the thick vein that snaked over the middle of his bicep before losing its way into the maze of other veins that criss-crossed his thick and vascular forearms. Next, Mike took off his t-shirt (albeit with some difficulty) and stared at his fully exposed upper body. Going over the poses he had struck during the day’s photoshoot, he repeated some of them, just to see how he would have looked in them. Not bad, he thought. Not bad at all. Craving for feedback from a wider audience, he picked up his phone and clicked a photo of himself in his boxers, winking at his reflection, one hand holding the phone and the other gently squeezing a relaxed pec.  As he shared it with his followers on his IG page, he added a cocky caption: “Waiting for some meat and juice after a hard day’s work! #bodybuilder #fitness #instafit #pecs #chest #hungry #tired”

 

Finally, he threw off his boxers and took one last glance at his completely nude self. He realized he was semi-erect from all the flexing and self-admiration and decided he would relieve himself in the jacuzzi. Keeping his phone on the wash basin, Mike moved into the shower cubicle and turned on the water.  After fiddling with the taps to get the temperature right, he closed his eyes, pointed his face upwards and surrendered to the warm and caressing jets of water that came at him from every direction. His phone had already started bleeping notifications from fans who had started liking and commenting on his latest pic, but he couldn’t care less. Taking some soap, gently worked up a lather all over his arms, abs and chest. He took particular care to massage his pecs, feeling their mass and density under his fingers as he squeezed them from every angle. Oh, how relaxing it was to play with all the water, the lather and the muscles. He loved how the water streams raining down on him coursed their way from his neck, coursing over his thick upper pecs, through and over and around his inflated lower pecs, some of them choosing to flow down the deep chasm that separated his two pec-mounds continuing to drain into the washboard that were his eight-pack abs , while others took the more adventurous route of trying to trace the contours of his pecs, only to scatter away and disperse as they hit the nipples! It was almost as if the water too were playing with his muscles along with him. Before long, Mike realize that his cock was now erect from all the self-worshipping that he was indulging in, and as was his wont on such occasions, he poured some more soap on his left palm and began to gently stroke his cock while caressing his sensitive right nipple with the other hand. As he closed his eyes moaning n pleasure, he wished he had some assistance from his friend Chris, who, if present now, would have sucked the daylights out of those nipples, engorging them with blood and filling him with ecstacy. But alas, tonight it would have to be self-service, Mike reckoned and continued to stroke himself more vigorously while feeling himself up with his spare hand, flexing his pecs to feel the striations, relaxing them to squeeze them hard, and sometimes clawing through his eight-pack abs with his fingers to feel the corrugations. His cock was now leaking profuse amounts of precum, and he could feel he was very close to cumming. As he arched his back and stepped up the tempo to the fifth and final gear for the last few seconds of accelerated thrusting and stroking, the doorbell rang and Mike stopped dead in his tracks. “Room service please” was the muffled voice that he could discern from the distance.

 

Scene 2: Marcel

 

Let us for a moment leave our young, muscular friend in the throes of frenzied masturbation and introduce the other dramatis persona of this story: twenty-one year old Marcel. Marcel was a fresh graduate from the hotel management academy, and was interning at the very same hotel where our protagonist has been put up. As is the case with most interns, he was assigned to work night shift whenever a member of the regular staff was on leave, and tonight was no different. But Marcel never complained about night shifts. In fact, he loved them because the hotel would mostly be quiet at night after midnight, there would be very few room service requests, and he would have ample time to himself. Most of this he employed watching various series on Netflix and generally fooling around on social media. Marcel, though of light build himself, happened to be a great fan of muscles, pecs in particular , and by a curious coincidence, was surfing through the handle of  mike_juicypecs that night, as he pushed the service trolley along the corridor that housed Mike’s room. He had started following Mike recently, and was really in awe of his outstanding physique. What he liked most was the fact that not only did Mike have the perfect physique he could imagine any guy to have and the juiciest pair of pecs that ever graced the torso of man, he also had this air of self-confidence bordering on cockiness which was evident from the way in which he showed off his body to his followers. Mike posted photos and videos of his workouts and lifestyle regularly, knew how best to show off his muscles, hit the right poses, click from the right angles and put on the right clothes that would leave very little to imagination and keep his followers asking for more. Take for instance the short video that he had posted a couple of days back of his sweaty chest, flexing and unflexing his massive bags of meat in a white tank top that emphasized the thickness of the muscle. The lighting was just perfect, with one pec casting a shadow over his abs, just to underscore the fact that the overhang was real! And as if that weren’t all, he was wearing a chain around his neck that, on account of the well-developed nature of his upper chest and his thick traps had succumbed to the contours of the muscles and settled into a V shape between his pecs, instead of dangling in the form of a U. The caption really gave away his teasing nature: “Necklaces will never fit me properly <dunno emoji>.” The video was set to loop over and over again as Mike flexed and relaxed his full, thick, deep, striated pecs and that drove Marcel crazy. In his own fertile imagination, he even believed that with his right, vein-traversed forearm that was not completely visible in the video, Mike was actually jerking himself off; whereas in reality Mike was only bringing his arm forward and backward in a flexing motion.

As Marcel trudged along the long hotel corridor, little did he know that he was headed towards the object of his many fantasies. He had just “liked” Mike’s latest post from a few minutes back and was just not able to get over the image of Mike standing in front of a bathroom mirror, playfully caressing one of his pecs while winking at the mirror. How he wished the hand that was squeezing the plump, juicy pec and making the ripe, sensitive, otherwise downward-pointing nipple stand up as if to check what was happening was not Mike’s but his own! Casting aside such wishful thoughts that were beginning to make him horny, Marcel looked around himself to locate the correct door where the food as destined. Pressing the bell, he cried out,” Room service please!”

 

 

Scene 3: Mike and Marcel

 

It is not often that one finds oneself in Mike’s position, having to choose between answering a doorbell and blowing one’s load. Mike, as we have seen, was strokes away from splattering the walls of the shower cabinet with volleys of thick, warm cum when the doorbell rang. He could have ignored it, continued with the stroking, and once done, finished his shower, dressed up and then answered the door. The valet would still have waited, no doubt, as he was trained to wait. But Mike, as readers are well aware, had a naughty, exhibitionist side to himself – a side that was now brought to the fore by the fact that he was aroused to the bone, dripping pre-cum almost like a faucet and craving for some worship. It didn’t take Mike long to decide his next course of action.

 

Turning off the shower, Mike cried out aloud, “Just a moment! I’ll be right there.” The lather having already washed off his body while he was busy jerking himself, he pulled a towel from the rack and quickly dried himself. Then, attempting to wrap the towel around his waist, he realized his cock, now eight-inches erect and pointing horizontally, refused to yield. Smiling to himself, he forced the towel around it (which now clearly stuck out like a tentcloth over a pole), stepped out of the bathroom, walked up to the door and opened it just as the Marcel the valet was about to press the bell again.

 

 

It took Marcel ten long seconds to come to terms with what he was seeing in front of him as the door opened. For a moment, he thought he was still stuck in his fantasy of mike_juicypecs from Instagram, and he stood there staring with his jaws dropped and eyes wide open. It was only when Mike waved his hand in front of his eyes that his reverie broke and he realized that the fantastic and the real had actually together! Standing in front of him was a prime specimen of male physicality and the very object of his recent dreams, fresh from a shower going by the fragrance that he was giving off and clothed in nothing but a towel.

“I’m sorry for this… I was just taking a shower when the bell rang”, said Mike sheepishly to the dumbstruck Marcel. “Why don’t you come in and set the food on the table right there while I put on some clothes ?”

“S..s..sure, Sir”, blurted Marcel, still scanning every inch of that exaggerated anatomy chart standing before him with his eyes. He soaked in Mike’s sheepishly grinning face (which was familiar to him), his thick neck supported by thicker traps, giving way to boulder-like shoulders to which were attached his muscled arms covered in blood-engorged veins. And those pecs! Yes, they seemed real, full and juicy, protruding out and casting their shadow on his abdominals in the dim light of the foyer, twitching ever so slightly as Mike stood there holding the door open with one hand, the other resting casually over his ripped abs in a caressing motion.  To his absolute horror (or rather incredulity), Marcel’s eyes fell on the protruded portion of the towel just below the waist, and realizing what it meant, he was once again frozen still, unable to takes his eyes off the damp patch in the towel which had now developed owing to all the precum that Mike was still leaking owing to the aborted jerkoff session. Marcel didn’t know what to think or say or do, so he just followed Mike’s cue as he stepped aside to let him pass, and he entered with the food trolley and headed towards the table indicated in the corner of the room, across the bed.

 

Mike wasn’t surprised by this reaction and was quite used to it by now. He was in the mood to play along and see where this led. As Marcel was setting the table, he went to the wardrobe and changed into a skimpy tank-top and a pair of boxer shorts, his cock still hard in anticipation of what was to come. By the time he was dressed, the valet had finished with his table-laying and was waiting nervously holding the check. Mike knew he had to give the poor fellow a reason to stay on in the room. So, signing the check, he asked, “Do I look familiar to you, Mr…..”.

 

“The name’s Marcel, Sir”. 

 

“Marcel. You were staring at me when I opened the door. Did I remind you of someone perhaps?”

“No Sir”, said Marcel, shamefaced. “Actually, I’m a follower on your Instagram and a great fan of your physique…so I just couldn’t believe I was seeing you in person. Sorry if I appeared stupid.”

 

“That’s wonderful, Marcel. Don’t be sorry”, said Mike. “Always a pleasure meeting an admirer in person!” And then after a pause, “Look Marcel, if you’re not terribly busy, why don’t you stick around here for a bit while I finish my meal and I could hit some poses for you after that if you’d like ?”

 

Marcel couldn’t believe his ears. He began to stutter and stammer searching for an appropriate response when Mike urged once again: “You’ve saved me from death by hunger today, Marcel, and it would be my way of saying thank you. So please stay, and help yourself to some beer from the minifridge if you like.”

 

Marcel gleefully acquiesced, and the both of them, muscle god and admirer, sat down to their late evening meal. As Mike ate and Marcel drunk, they got around to small talk, Marcel did most of the talking, telling Mike how he adored his physique, showing him the photos and videos that he particularly loved (and had jerked off to) and how he still felt he was in a dream. As one beer gave way to another, Mike egged him on to share his fantasies and learnt that his pectorals had long been the object of the valet’s fantasies. Finishing up his meal, Mike said to Marcel: “Time for the flex show, buddy! Why don’t you take off your uniform and get comfortable on the bed while I set things up? “

 

Marcel hesitated, not sure if he heard Mike right. “T-t-take off my uniform, Sir ?” he stuttered.

 

“Well, let’s say it is best you did that to optimize the viewing experience”, grinned Mike, as he disappeared into the bathroom. Marcel couldn’t think clearly any more, and did what he was told like an obedient child. He stripped down to his vest and underwear and perched himself on the bed waiting anxiously for the muscle hunk to come out. Mike, in the meanwhile, had planned everything out in his mind. He felt in total control of the situation and was enjoying the plight of the hapless admirer who didn’t yet know he was up for the most mind-blowing experience of his life. He put on a tight spandex t-shirt and a pair of tight spandex briefs, for he knew that the material showed off the topography of his muscles the best. A fan had once remarked that his pecs looked like inflated rubber balloons when he wore spandex, and that was exactly what they looked like now as he flexed them to perfection in the mirror. Coming out of the bathroom, he was glad to see that the valet had complied with his advice to part with his uniform.

 

“Here we go.”, said Mike as he began to flex. “You can take pictures now, but you’ll know when to stop.” added Mike with a wink. Mike started by flexing his bicep peaks which stretched the material of the shirt to tolerance. He then showed off his tricep striations that made a horse-shoe formation when he flexed them; he then showed off his pectorals by turning sideways and standing upright with his arms behind his back, so that Marcel could appreciate the smooth contours and the thickness of the pec-shelf that hung over his abs. The spandex accentuated his profile by making the nipples stick out under the fabric and also hugging the undulations of his abs. Marcel was transfixed; he didn’t say much but instead kept staring in amazement at the display before him. Unbeknownst to him, his cock was noe erect as if in salute to the muscle show and his underwear was stained with precum.

 

“Phew!”, said Mike, waking Marcel from his reverie. Pointing to his dick,  he said: “Guess you’re enjoying what you see, going by that.”

 

Marcel was once again utterly embarrassed but didn’t care any more. There was no way he could get through this without surrendering completely to the muscle god standing before him. Without uttering a word, he threw off his underwear, exposing his dripping and erect cock. “Yes Sir, I do like what I see Please go on.”

 

Mike smiled and said, “Much better.” and lifted his t-shirt, not taking it off entirely but letting it rest two-thirds of the way up,  just on top of his pecs so that the upper pecs were partly covered but the pendulous lower portion was exposed, peeping out from under the cloth. In this configuration, he struck another double-bicep pose, driving his admirer mad with lust with the erotic scene of both his best-developed muscle groups - his biceps and pecs - just partly covered and stretching beyond belief in a tantalizing fashion, as if urging the viewer to reach for them and tear off the rest of the fabric to release the muscles in all their glory. He then  pulled the t-shirt over his head (his lats flaring out like wings as he did that) and threw it away. His pecs bounced, as if with relief at being liberated from the suffocation of the spandex. He was now only in his briefs and his own engorged cock too was crying out from under the fabric. He turned to the valet who had now begun stroking his cock and said: “I’m told my pecs feel better than they look. Why don’t you come over and tell me if that’s true? “

 

Marcel was no longer hesitant. Dripping wet, he walked over to Mike and placed his fists on his pecs, gently squeezing them. They yielded to his precum-soaked fingers, and felt soft like some well-kneaded dough. Just as he dug his claws into them to squeeze them as hard as he could, Mike flexed them into tension and Marcel realized that what felt like dough had suddenly turned to unyielding rock. He tried squeezing the flexed pec with all his might but to no avail. Mike then rippled his pecs, displaying his striations one by one and asked Marcel to feel the “waves” with his palms as he exhibited this feat of muscle control that only an insanely shredded musclegod can, flexing his muscle fibers one by one. Relaxing them, he asked Marcel to kneel and look up to his pecs as he flexed them. “You see, the angle makes all the difference!”, said Mike as he bunched his pecs into what looked like two footballs touching each other from Marcel’s vantage point below. Watching from that angle, Marcel appreciated how massive Mike’s pecs really were. They almost hid his face except for what was visible through the narrow valley that separated the two muscles. Marcel instinctively reached out and fondled them , also rubbing his hands over his ripped and shredded abs. At this point, his hands wandered over to Mike’s briefs that were totally failing to contain his erect eight-incher. Not only was Mike leaking precum like Marcel, he was actually precumming at such a rate that trails of cum were trickling down from under the wet briefs and over his muscled thighs, right down to his feet! Marcel thought for a moment that Mike had blown his load from all the flexing and worship, but Mike corrected him: “Don’t worry, Mr Valet. That’s still precum. And there’s more of it where it came from, trust me!” So saying, Mike took off his spandex briefs and threw them into some corner of the room. His eight-incher (or was it nine now ?) sprang up hitting the kneeling Marcel in the face and slathering his cheeks with a generous smear of hot precum. “It’s much better this way”, he said as he stood Marcel up, pulling him to the bed.

 

“You’ve seen and felt my pecs. Would you like to taste them too, since I’ve also been told they taste better than they feel?” said Mike.

 

“I would very much like to do that, Sir. In fact, if you will permit, may I suck your nipples?”, asked the valet.

 

Mike smiled and indicated consent. As he lay down on the bed, Marcel nestled in next to him. Both of them were by now completely naked, and Mike’s cock stood upright like a thick pole. Marcel grabbed it with his fist and began stroking, simultaneously setting his mouth to one of Mike’s nipples and  sucking hard on it. Mike moaned with pleasure and submitted willingly to this act of worship. Marcel turned out to be a great sucker, lubricating the nipple with his tongue and sucking at it like there was no tomorrow. At the same time, the gentle stroking action on his cock continued, and with each stroke, Mike kept spewing out trickles of precum making a wet mess of the sheets. Marcel felt he could do this for ever as he released his mouth from the nipple he was sucking to admire the effect. So vigorously had he sucked at it that it had swollen to almost twice its original size, the areola wet with his saliva and looking disproportionately large compared to the other nipple that hadn’t received his attention yet. He decided to set it right and shifted to the other side, sucking the other nipple while continuing to stroke Mike’s cock making him moan uncontrollably with pleasure. When he was done with it, he compared both nipples to satisfy himself that they were now equal in size. His own cock was beginning to twitch leak and profusely and he felt he would explode any moment without even having to jerk his cock. Marcel decided it was best to relent now as he wouldn’t be able to last much longer. He was surprised at Mike’s capability to withstand his continuous stroking, all the while emitting more and more precum when he was about to blow his load without touching his cock even once.

 

He said to Mike, almost pleading with him: “Sir, I think I will cum now. Can’t withstand this any more!”

 

“So soon?”, quizzed Mike jokingly, “Just relax. Catch a breath, buddy. Time for a break.”. The naked Mike got up from the bed and walked across to the minifridge. His nipples were pointier and more engorged than before, and shiny wet from all the licking and sucking. The heavy pecs jiggled under their own weight. His abs and thighs were slathered with the precum that Marcel had pumped out of his throbbing dick, and his skin glistened as a result. From his thick, erect cock was suspended a strand of sticky precum reaching down to his feet. As he bent to open the fridge, Mike’s glutes parted to reveal his tight ass and Marcel had to close his eyes to this extremely erotic sight just to prevent himself from loosing his load involuntarily. Mike pulled out two cans of chilled beer and tossed one at Marcel. “You may wanna pour some over that eager boner of yours to calm it down”, he joked. Marcel eagerly gulped the beer down, while Mike carried his to the sofa and sat back, relaxing. He switched on the TV and fiddled with the channels to divert Marcel’s mind from the muscle worship and help him cool down. After a couple of beers, Mike rose and went to the bathroom. Marcel could hear the sound of water being turned on and the tub being filled. After a few minutes, Mike popped out of the bathroom and said: “Come on, buddy. Let’s finish it off with a nice and cosy bubble bath. You scratch my back, I scratch yours, quite literally!”

 

Marcel gulped down the last sip of beer from his can and joined Mike in the bathroom. The tub was large, designed for two and brimming with foam, bubbles and steam. Mike entered first, moaning with pleasure as the warm frothy water engulfed his tired muscled. Marcel followed, snuggling in beside him and soaking in the water with delight. As he felt Mike’s skin against his body, his cock was erect once again. He soaped every square inch of Mike’s body with a loofah, bestowing special attention as usual on his pecs. Ever time the rough-textured loofah brushed over his sensitive nipples, Mike ooh-aahed with pleasure, and Marcel, enjoying the reaction, did it again and again to drive Mike crazy. Marcel was now seated astride Mike’s abs, massaging his pecs with both hands when Mike suddenly pulled him closer to himself. As a result, his cock slid into the valley between his pecs, and seizing this opportunity, Mike flexed his pecs and locked his cock in. Marcel moaned with pleasure as precum oozed from his dick, rolling into the soapy terrain of Mike’s upper pec shelf.

 

“Got you!” said Mike, as he held the flex. Marcel could feel the tough striated fibers of Mike’s pecs clench his cock in place in the deep valley between, and he could in no way wrench it free. Mike then released his grasp by relaxing his pecs, only to flex them once again. The rhythm continued and Marcel realized he was being subjected to what our readers are familiar as a “pec-job”, something which Mike had mastered in his dorm when he first learnt the pleasures of pec worship. The hapless Marcel moaned louder with every squeeze, finally crying out: “….Sir, if you don’t stop, I’ll…….aaaaaaaahhhhhhh….”

 

The valet came. And as he came, he moaned with pleasure. Pleasure he had not known he was capable of experiencing. And thick ropes of cum shot out and landed on Mike’s chin, some of them going for his mouth, nose and eyes while others filled trickled down his pec-valley settling into the groves between his abs. As the moaning Marcel was gradually drained of the last drop of cum in him, Mike let his cock loose from his pec-grasp and wiped the cum off his face.

 

“You’ve almost plastered me in cum !”, said Mike stepping out of the tub, amazed at his capacity to shoot.

 

“Sir, allow me to return the favour. Can I suck your cock please? “ asked Marcel who had managed to recover his senses.

 

“With pleasure”, answered Mike, whose cock was now thick, hard and wet all over. “But mind you, I tend to cum a lot so….”. Before Mike could finish, Marcel knelt, took Mike’s massive dick into this mouth and began giving him a blow job. At first , its girth came in the way but eventually he was able to take Mike all in, deepthroating him effortlessly while reaching out with his hands to feel his pecs. Mike moaned in ecstatic pleasure, and took both his hands and guided them over his muscled torso, making him feel the varied contours of his pecs, abs, forearms, biceps, triceps, glutes… Marcel increased the tempo of his sucking, even as his mouth overflowed from the precum alone that Mike’s capacious cock was spewing into it. His hands now wildly clutched, fondled and squeezed Mike’s magnificent pecs, kneading those juicy meatballs till it drive Mike over the edge.

 

“I am gonna cum…..” cried Mike.

 

And he came. Finally. After what felt like an eternity of worship, Mike blew his load. The first few volleys were delivered into Marcels’ mouth. He then pushed Marcel away, taking his cum-spewing cock out in time to prevent him from choking. He directed the subsequent volleys at Marcel’s face, neck, chest, abs… The force with which he ejected cum was immense, the ropes were thick, and before long, he had covered Marcel from head to toe in his cum, twice over.

 

He came for what seemed like minutes. Maybe three or four long minutes before the cum died out. He didn’t remember cumming so profusely ever before. He looked down at Marcel who was now on the bathroom floor, cloaked in his cum. He lifted him up, and wiping the cum from his eyes, showed him his ghost-like reflection in the mirror. They both had a good laugh.

 

Mike helped Marcel wash the cum off his body in the shower; Marcel once again scrubbed Mike all over with soap; having bathed and cleaned themselves, they towelled each other dry and emerging from the bathroom, went directly to bed. As sleep overcame Mike and Marcel, the chirping of birds announced the break of day outside.

===========================

Postscript: If this story made you cum, or horny AF at least, do let the author know by commenting here or dropping a mail to <[email protected]>.

 

Hot!!!

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Awesome! So great to find a new Mike and his pecs stories!! The originals were some of my favorites. Hope there will be more to come.

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pecster
11 hours ago, maxwm said:

Awesome! So great to find a new Mike and his pecs stories!! The originals were some of my favorites. Hope there will be more to come.

Thanks maxwm. There will be more as long as there is inspiration for new material from readers (like I had in this case from Elvis Lee - himself a pec god!). Cheers!

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pecster
2 hours ago, calhoun said:

A hot memory from the past!  Thanks so much.  😀

You're welcome calhoun. Glad to know you've read and liked the older ones too! 

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OldFashioned

Oh boy... “Mike and His Pecs” definitely triggered a slight fetish in me when I first read them. To this day I still search “pec bounce” “bounce his pecs” etc, when looking for stories 😅

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pecster
20 minutes ago, OldFashioned said:

Oh boy... “Mike and His Pecs” definitely triggered a slight fetish in me when I first read them. To this day I still search “pec bounce” “bounce his pecs” etc, when looking for stories 😅

Thank you :). Guilty as charged! Hope you enjoyed reading this one too...

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Mdlftr

Man, there's just something about PECS.....Terrific!

Hope to hear more about Mike and his chesty adventures!

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