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Ben and Roger


Lexfan

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  • 2 months later...

((This finishes off the retelling of their first evening from Roger's perspective. This was just pretty much a writing exercise for me on viewpoint, so thanks for the patience.)

Roger realized he wanted to avoid making his handsome guest feel uncomfortable if Roger was misreading him, but he also wanted to make clear the door was open if there was any interest. As the film’s opening scene started, Roger leaned back and spread his left arm out across the coach top.  Roger saw Ben’s head tilt as he glanced quickly back at Roger.  Without thinking, Roger flexed his chest and arm ever so slightly.  He wondered if Ben had noticed.  After the conclusion of the openng action sequence, as the film moved its opening credits, Ben leaned back against the couch, his head resting just under Roger’s stretched out arm. 

Roger tried to keep his eyes on the screen, but they kept drifting back to Ben, his thick brown hair and his chiseled face, the athletic shoulders and chest, and the pronounced biceps and triceps stretching out of his sleeves.  Roger knew he was hard, and a little concerned that Ben would notice. 

The thought crossed Roger’s mind that perhaps Ben was waiting for him to make a move.  Roger immediately told himself that was ridiculous, wishful thinking. Even if Ben was open to guys, there were surely truckloads of hot ones his own age that he would have to beat away with a stick.  However, as Ben seemed to have no problem sitting this close to Roger - and he was soo damn hot - Roger finally decided he needed to see how he would react if Roger got a little “friendlier.”            

Roger picked up the remote, took a little breath to calm himself, then put the movie on hold and turned his head toward Ben, trying to look directly into those beautiful blue eyes. 

“I’d like to stretch out a little, Ben. Would you mind doing that with me.”

For ten seconds that seemed like an hour, Ben was silent and Roger thought to himself he had pushed too far.  To Roger’s relief, Ben pivoted toward and spoke.

“Sure, what do you have in mind?”

For a split second Roger considered suggesting they move to the screen in his bedroom. He thought that was a little too obvious, but there was no reason not to take full advantage of his man-sized couch.

“Take your shoes off and get up for a minute.”  

As Ben sat up to take his shoes off, Roger reached behind him and pulled out the cushion, and propped it against the side arm of the couch. As Ben stood up, Roger slipped his legs up on the couch behind Ben, stretching himself out across the couch, his head resting against the propped up against the pillow. Ben turned, and saw Roger stretched out across the couch behind him.

“Okay, come on back down here.” 

Roger could tell Ben was a bit confused by what Roger was asking him to do.  Ben started to sit down as if Roger expected him to sit in front of Roger’s mid section stretch out behind him.  Roger knew he had to make clear what he wanted, so he reached up and grabbed Roger by the shoulder, pulling his head down toward Roger’s head by the cushion on the couch arm.

“Now bring your legs up to mine.”

Roger had no idea how Ben was going to take this direction.  His heart skipped a beat as Ben moved his legs up onto the couch and stretched out in front of him, both facing forward toward the television screen.  Roger felt Ben’s shoulder press against Roger’s chest, and Roger reflexively gave it a little flex.  He sucked in the scent of Ben’s thick brown hair, which he found intoxicating. Roger’s crotch briefly brushed against Ben’s solid round ass, causing Roger to push back to create a little space between them so Ben wouldn’t feel just how hard his presence was making Roger.  

Roger raised his left arm out over Ben’s back and then loweres his arm so that it draped down over Ben, Roger’s thick bicep stretched across the mound of Ben’s impressive left pec. Roger could actually feel Ben’s heart pounding.  

“This okay with you, Ben?”

Roger was actually more than a little anxious about the answer. 

“Sure, it’s fine.”

Thinking that the pounding he felt in Ben’s chest may be an indication of nervousness or discomfort. Roger felt some need to explain himself in a way that gave him some kind of way out.

“Are you sure?  I am a physical guy, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

After a second, Ben responded.

“No, really, I like being with you.”

With those words, Roger felt a shot of electricity shoot through him.   

“Feeling is mutual, buddy.”

Roger reached down and lightly grabbed Ben’s thigh, giving it a squeeze. As Roger expected, there was plenty of solid meat there.  Roger let his left arm drape down over Ben’s torso while his right arm reached under Ben to use the remote to hit play, and left his right arm resting underneath Ben. Roger leaned his body slightly into Ben’s so that Ben’s shoulders were resting on the pillows of Roger’s beefy pecs. At the same time, Roger pulled his pelvis back slightly away from Ben’s ass, as Roger was unsure whether he wanted Ben to press into the hard on in Roger’s pants.  

For the first five minutes as the movie proceeded, Roger noticed that Ben remained tense, not moving in the least, and Roger became concerned his positioning left Ben uncomfortable.  Gradually, Roger could feel Ben relax and slowly lean his shoulders back into Roger.  Roger couldn’t restrain his pleasure in feeling Ben nestle into him, and let out a quiet “mmmmm” in response. 

Roger paid little attention to the film as he enjoyed the feel of the young hunk whose back was lying him.  Although Ben must have weighed at last twenty pounds less than Roger, he was nevertheless remarkably muscular and cut - and handsome enough for a magazine cover. Roger had a healthy ego about his own looks. He was used to getting double looks when he walked into a room.  But seeing Ben stretched out next to him made him feel like a dirty old man - a very lucky dirty old man.

Roger recognized the film was coming to the “beauty shot” scene of the movie. Roger pulled his left hand up to Bem’s shoulder and gave a little squeeze,

“I love this part.”

A beach scene appeared on the screen.  James Bond emerged out of the water in a speedo, the camera slowly scanning his lean and muscular physique.  Roger thought about just what Ben would look like in a speedo.  Almost without thinking Roger slid his right arm a little further beneath Ben’s side and reached up with his right hand, stroking the contours of Ben’s abs. Just as Roger suspected, the indents were impressive. Abs like that didn’t just happen - you had to work for them. Roger wanted Ben to know he appreciated that work.

“You know, Ben, I bet you have much better abs than he does.”

“Yeah, well I wish I got paid as much for em.”

“I guess you’re just not selling to the right market.” 

Roger again thought he might be pushing a little too hard, so he removed his hand from Ben’s abs and just watched the rest of the film, fighting the urge to roll Ben over and slide on top.  

After the film ended, Roger just continued in his position stretched out behind Ben, his big left arm hanging down over Ben’s side.  Roger would have been content to stay like that the rest of the night.  However, after a minute or two, Roger realized that was not a practical plan, so his left hand reached up and gave Ben’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I wish we could stay like this all night but probably not a good idea.  I have a flight for a business trip in the morning.”

Roger started to move to get up. His hand let go of Ben’s shoulder, but as Roger started to push Ben up a little, he gave Ben’s pec a playfull squeeze - something he had wanted to do all evening.  Roger immediately a bit of a grimace in Ben’s face.

“Buddy, are you sore there from this morning’s workout?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

Roger was not going to let the opportunity pass him by.

“I know what to do about that.  Take off your shirt.”

Roger quickly moved himself out from behind Ben, got up, and shot across the floor headed to his bathroom’s medicine cabinet where he knew he had a full bottle of massage lotion. He heard Ben calling out from the couch.

“What? No. . . “ 

Walking back into the living room, Roger responded.

“No reason for a guy built like you to hesitate taking off his shirt. Go on.”

To Roger’s immense pleasure, Ben complied, raising himself off the couch just enough to pull his shirt off up over head, and then toss it to the side of the couch, finally giving Roger a full look at Ben’s sculptured torso - round delts, full cut pecs, and deeply indented abdominals. 

Roger moved back onto the couch, standing on his knees straddling either side of Ben just below his hips.  As Roger squeezed a small amount of lotion into his hands, he looked down taking in the shirtless young hunk in front of him, who looked up at him without saying a word. Roger thought he needed to let Ben know just how good he looked.

“Damn, that’s one well built chest. I wish I had looked like that at your age”

Roger could tell Ben’s eyes focused on Roger’s own chest.

“You more than caught up.” Roger smiled at the compliment.  Then he leaned over and looked into Ben’s eyes as started massaging the lotion into Ben’s pecs, moving out in each direction from the pronounced crevice in the middle.  

“That’s just some warming massage cream. As I work it in, you’ll feel a little heat.” 

Roger enjoyed working his fingers into the layers of muscle across Ben’s chest, moving from the top to the middle, down into the sternum, and then slowly back out again.

“You feel the warming.”

“Yeah, a bit.”

Roger was feeling pretty warm himself.

“Am I pressing too hard?”

“No, just right.”

Roger suspected from wincing in Ben’s face and the pressure he knew he was applying that Ben was probably denying how sore he was to impress Roger, and Roger was pleased Ben wanted to impress him.  Roger also enjoyed working his fingers deep into Ben’s meaty pecs. However, he wasn’t a sadist.

“Let me work it a different way.”

Roger began more gently up from the bottom of Ben’s pecs with his palms.

“That feels good.”

“Great, cause that’s how I want you to feel.”

For the next ten minutes, Roger continued to work his palms into Ben’s chest.  Given Ben’s clear enjoyment of the attention, Roger began to wonder just how Ben would react if Roger tossed off his own shirt and started massaging Ben’s pecs with his own.  Given how aroused he was getting, Roger began to think that and more was inevitable.  Ben, however, brought him back to reality.

“Roger, thanks, but I better get going. You have a flight in the morning, remember.” 

“I was just about to have you turn over so I could work your shoulders.”

“Another time, perhaps.”

Roger wasn’t sure whether to take that as a good sign, or just a way for Ben to get out. Roger reached his fingers out and gave Ben’s pecs a final squeeze.

“Okay, you’re right. I do need to grab a few hours sleep before the morning.”

Roger stepped off the couch, and stood aside watching Ben get up and put on his shirt and shoes. He decided he might as well make an offer to see if Ben really had any interest.

“By the way, they are finally ready to open the building’s weight room this week.  I get back from my trip Tuesday evening.  Any interest in doing a leg work out with me Wednesday after work?”

Ben slowly stood up, and looked at Roger.

“Sure, what time?’

“Can you meet me in the lobby at 6:30?”

“You got it.”

“Great.  Bring a weight belt.  We’re doing squats.”

Roger led Ben through the apartment to the door. He opened the door and turned to Ben.

“Thanks for spending your Saturday evening with the old guy who’s new to town.”

Ben looked at Roger for a few seconds before responding.

“You’re hardly an ‘old guy’ Roger.  Thanks for everything. Your place is incredible.”

“I’m glad you like it, and hope you’ll be spending some more time here.”

“I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Take care, Buddy.”

Roger put his hand up to high-five Ben as he walked out.  As their hands met, Roger couldn’t help but notice the nice peak in Ben’s bicep.  Ben walked out, and Roger closed the door behind him.  He waited a few second for Ben to walk toward the elevator, then pumped his fist and spoke quietly to himself:

“Yes!”

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((Meanwhile in another city far away, another first meeting was about to take place)

The twelve years since Tom had last seen Roger had been good to him.  Tom was now CEO of a corporation that ran over forty gyms across the country. Tom’s gyms had a reputation for being able to demand top dollar from their customers because of the results they produced implementing Tom’s training techniques.  That success had made Tom quite a wealthy man. In addition, he continued his own highly sought after personal training practice. He had developed a particular reputation as the “go to” trainer for actors seeking to muscle up for superhero and other “beefcake” movie roles.  

Although Tom had long given up competing himself for bodybuilding titles, he felt it was still important for his brand’s image that he maintain himself at near competition level condition. His weight remained pretty consistently around 240 lbs, but because he kept himself pumped up and his body fat in the low double digits, his six foot frame appeared even larger. He increased this impression by consistently wearing tight black t-shirts with a deep v-neck that drew attention to the separation in the mid-point of his expansive chest, and with high short-sleeves that showed off his twenty one-inch arms. His blonde hair had now gone white, and he kept it cut extremely short, resulting in an almost military appearance.   

Even though he was now in his early fifties, Tom had not lost his ability to attract the attention of men with any interest in other men - and in Tom’s case that turned out to be almost every man he met. If anything, the lines of age seemed to just add to his hyper-masculine appeal. Repeatedly men who had never previously felt any interest in their own gender found themselves unable to avoid staring and finding themselves uncomfortably aroused in his presence.  

Tom no longer made it his practice to “break in” the young hunks who came to work for him. Most of them were just too willing and submissive, hoping the boss would be calling them into the office to spread their legs and surrender.  Tom simply had no patience for boys (or men) looking to be Daddy’s toy. What Tom looked for now was something he rarely found - a man who felt no intimidation, was looking to prove he was top dog, and ready to play rough.  

There had been few men who met that criteria.  Briefly Tom had thought he had found him in a marine who showed up at the gym one day - a muscular wall of a man at 6’3” and almost 260.  Tom first noticed him on a treadmill warming up - it seemed like the machine shook each time one of his feet pounded on its surface.  Tom quickly began lifting from a bench near him, which led to an informal heaviest bench competition, and then shots of whiskey in Tom’s apartment, culminating in a tussle for top in Tom’s bed.  

Tom let the marine have his way that night, and every night for the following week. Then Tom stopped holding back, and the marine learned for the first time what it felt like to be conquered by an invading force.  He learned that lesson many times in the following weeks, although he won their battles as often as he lost.  

Tom’s nightly hand to hand combat with the marine might have continued indefinitely, but the marine got notice of a deployment a month after their meeting. The following year when he returned, they met up again a few times, but something had changed. The effect of being at war had taken the pleasure out of struggling for top dog. The marine now often wanted to spend nights just holding Tom close.  For Tom, that was just not enough and he soon cut it off.

One afternoon at his gym, Tom had a 2 pm appointment with a new client, about whom he had no advance knowledge.  The name on his schedule appeared as simply “ROMAN.”  Tom wondered why his staff had felt the need to put the name in all caps. 

New clients started by meeting Tom in his office to discuss their goals.  Most of Tom’s clients were men in their late thirties or forties, as Tom’s hefty rates requiered a man of means. Tom was surprised when a 23 year old walked into his office at 2pm.  At 6 foot and 220 pounds this kid was quite a sight. A full- head of thick jet-black hair, tight along the sides but longer on top, with a jaw covered with a light scruff and an olive complexion over striking features framed by high cheekbones to match a roman nose corresponding to his name.  He was wearing a red sleeveless  muscle shirt that showed off very impressive guns with a thorn-pattern proceeding halfway down his left arm from a big round deltoid.  The shirt was pulled tight what was obviously an impressive chest. He had on black basketball shorts that covered his thighs, but based on full calves Tom was confident the legs were equally impressive.

“Hi, I’m Roman.”  

“Tom.  Welcome.  Come on sit down and let’s talk.”

They sat across a small round wooden table.  

“So Roman, I understand you’re interested in training with me. I don’t get many clients as young as you. And you are obviously already in pretty remarkable condition.  Are you looking for someone to prep you for a contest?”

“Bodybuilding? No, that’s not really my thing.  I was a state champion wrestler in high school and thought I would try auditioning for the pros. But to do that the way I want I think I need about another thirty pounds of muscle.”

Tom pictured what a monster this kid would be with thirty more pounds.  

“You’re young so that could be accomplished in two or three months. But you know I’m very expensive. Six hundred an hour for training. You’re sure you don’t want to just go with one of my staff who uses my programs with clients.”

“I can afford it. I was modeling for the past two years and made a lot of money which I saved up.”

“If you made that much, why are you giving it up.”

“The agency kept giving me a hard time about getting too big. They set a rule that I couldn’t get over two hundred pounds.  I hated how that felt. And I knew I really wanted to be a wrestler.”

“I have trained wrestlers before.  Very few of them do it very long.  There’s a lot of injuries.”

“I know. But I like manhandling guys.”  

“Well, be prepared to get manhandled a bit yourself.”

“I can take it. Looking forward to it.”  

Roman pointed to a framed ten year old picture on the wall of Tom doing a double bicep pose at a competition.

“Is that you?” 

“Yeah, it’s quite a few years ago, but that’s me.”

“That’s hot.”

“Thanks. I haven’t competed in years, but I worked hard at it.”

“You look like you could still do it.”

“I try to keep in condition. It gives my client a sense that I know what I’m talking about.”

“You ever wrestle?”

“You mean competively? No.”

“How about for fun?”

Tom wondered whether wrestling in the sack counted.

“A little rough housing now and then.”  

“You should get on the mats with me sometime. We could have a good time.”  

Tom noticed that Roman was staring at him right in the eyes as he made the invitation.

“I take it you think you can manhandle me.”

“I won’t be too rough. I promise.”

Tom tried not to look surprised.  What a cocky kid. Still, Tom had to admit he was damn hot, and Tom could feel his dick hardening.

“Let’s see how tough you are after you start my routines. I can start you this time tomorrow afternoon.”

“No time this evening?”

“I have commitments pretty late tonight.”

“How late?”

“I am here until at least 10 pm.”

“I can be here then.” 

“You want to working out 10 pm tonight?”

“Yeah, . . . or whatever.” 

Tom, wondered what was included in that “whatever.”

“Okay, you’re on. At the front desk, tell them you need to sign my usual client forms.”

“Cool.  See you tonight, coach.”

Roman, got up and headed toward the door.  Tom noted for the first time that the kid had an exceptionally hot ass.

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