Jared Comes Home

"Do you believe how big Jared Sanderson is?"

"I know, he looks like one of those real muscle men, like in the magazines, on muscle beach or something."

"And his friend, or partner, whatever you call him, too."

"I call him fag, fag Ronnie and queer Jared."

"Well, you better get over it, because they're going to be running the place, soon as Mr. Sanderson hands it over."

The talk flew around the water coolers at the various offices of Sanderson Properties, and, in fact, around town in general. Word had come back that Jared Sanderson was gay, and that he'd become a pretty serious bodybuilder, but when he came back to town with his partner, at his father's request, to take over the business eventually, when everyone saw what the two of them looked like, the buzz boiled over. They probably would have had a hard time, getting in, being accepted, except that they were both so personable, even charismatic, that it was almost impossible to dislike them. Even the old guard learned a few things about acceptance.

Still, there was bound to be some jealousy. They came to town with a fortune they had amassed as extremely successful real estate brokers to the rich Hollywood gay crowd, and they paid cash for a mansion that few could even think about affording, let alone remodeling, with a full scale gym by the indoor pool, and a remarkable spa facility, complete with steam, sauna, and spa rooms, and a shower large enough for a small party. Of course tongues wagged. They expected it, and they didn't really care.

Jared had told his dad up front that he'd only come back if his dad could handle his being completely open about who and what he was, and his partner, Ronnie Connally, too. Jared's family had long ago accepted Jared's lifestyle, and, in fact, were rather proud of his success, in both real estate and in bodybuilding, even if they didn't really understand what the thing was about guys wanting to make themselves so abnormally muscular.

In the case of Jared and Ronnie, they did bring something to the Midwestern town that no one had experienced before. They had discovered, through their connections in LA, a muscle building supplement that made steroids pale in comparison. If it were legally obtainable, it would have been a prescription drug, but Jared knew the manufacturers, so the fact that the only way to get it was directly from them had not been a deterrent. The manufacturers, older than the two thirty-four year old guys but bodybuilders themselves, were more than happy to find them. They could afford to pay the exorbitant price, and they were both stunningly handsome and would make good representatives, if and when their product went public.

Jared and Ronnie had always used it per the recommendations of the makers, and had found, over the year before they went east, that it put muscle mass on at a steady rate and didn't cause any bloating or create huge guts, the way growth hormone and steroids could. It did make them incredibly horny, but it also increased their virility to the point that they could attract as many guys as they needed to satisfy their constant need, and they could perform as often as their hormones and libidos demanded, maintaining rock hard erections for hours, if the occasion called for it, and cum as many times as they wanted with no diminishing of desire or ability. In a word, the stuff made them superstuds.

When they began making the rounds of the offices to meet their agents and employees, wearing dress shirts and ties, their pecs and arms clearly shaping the material of the shirts, their pants draping over well muscled and well endowed (another benefit of the formula) lower bodies, they exuded an easy but powerful sexuality that did not go unnoticed by any they met. And yet their charm and the class with which they comported themselves, put everyone at ease, even as they stirred erotic feelings in almost everyone who saw and met them, even those who did not, could not, or would not recognize those feelings for what they were.

There were some that did, though. One of the first clients they handled was a widower with a young son. He bought an expensive home which, as he'd insisted was a requisite in his search, had room for a home gym. Conversation had turned quite naturally to working out, and the client, Tyler Madison, had been less than shy about expressing his admiration for what Jared and Ronnie had accomplished with their own bodies. They'd invited him over to work out with them, and to show him their gym. When they told him that they, and anyone who worked out in their gym, wore only posing trunks, Ty had no problem. And he'd had no problem when he could soon no longer hide his growing erection as Jared and Ronnie pumped up and flexed.

"Sorry, guys," he'd said, "but I guess you could bring out latent tendencies in just about any guy, the way you're so right-out-there comfortable with your muscles and your sexuality."

"Thanks," Jared said. "but those tendencies don't look all that latent."

After that, Ty became a regular fuck buddy of theirs, although it was all kept fairly discrete, for the sake of his son, Keenan, whom everyone called Keen.

Within six months, Jared and Ronnie had become fairly well established, socially accepted, both because of Jared's family connections, and also because of the curiosity of having them around. They continued to gain in muscularity, but at a pace that didn't raise too many suspicions, following the prescribed dosage spelled out by the formula makers, who told them that one day they would be used as spokesmen for the procuct. The formula did prove to be quite addictive, and they both added around thirty pounds of hard, cut muscle in that time. There were those, however, that did notice and assumed they must be taking something.

One of their agents, a particularly good looking, popular guy named Sean, came to them to tell them he thought he was going to have to turn in his license and get a regular job. He wasn't making enough money to maintain his rent and the lease on his car. Ironically, Jared and Ronnie had been discussing how much they needed a houseboy to keep up the mansion and grounds, supervise the gardeners and maid, to be there to meet contractors and repairmen, that sort of thing. They were just too busy. And, they had joked, it would be hot to find some great looking guy, work him out, put him on the formula, and turn him into a horned up, eager, devoted muscle boy while they were at it.

"We might have a solution for you," Jared proposed. "But only if you agree to certain terms." He explained the job, the responsibilities, the pay, and the fact that he would have his own living quarters on the third floor. "And," Jared added, "you have to agree to let us train you as we see fit, no arguments. You would have to totally comply with our turning you into a seriously muscled-up bodybuilder. If we're going to have to look at you all the time," he winked at Ronnie for Sean's benefit, "then you're going to look like we want you to look."

"That's cool," Sean agreed, "I would love that. I think you guys look great. You take something, don't you? I mean to get so big?"

"As a matter of fact," Jared said, "we do. And so will you. Let's get your stuff. You can start right away."

So they moved Sean into the third floor apartment that had, at one time, been for the major domo, so they'd been told. As soon as the last box was unpacked, they told him to come down to the kitchen for a protein drink, and then they'd put him through his first workout.

Sean gulped down the drink, and followed them down to the gym. When they got to the changing room, Jared and Ronnie both stripped and stepped into posers so brief they showed their pubes, and they handed a pair to Sean. Sean had already taken off his shirt and put in on a hook, exposing a beautifully hairy chest and stomach with a dark treasure trail running from his pecs down into his pants, which hung low below his navel. He hesitated when it came to taking off his pants, looking at the tiny poser, and Jared and Ronnie could see that he was stiffening up in his pants, the rise growing more obvious by the minute, and they knew the formula was hitting him.

Jared just casually nodded toward the rise in Sean's pants and laughed. "Don't worry about it," he said, "that's just the formula working. Builds muscle, but it also makes you a total horndog."

"Oh, like that's something I really needed. Like I'm not the world's biggest horndog anyway."

"You bone for muscle, boy?" Ronnie asked, flexing twenty-one inch biceps in front of Sean's face.

"Not usually," Sean said, but he gulped as he stared at the huge flexed arm.

"Go on, feel it. Gonna get you huge like this, too, boy. You like that?"

Sean reached out with one hand, then both, feeling the arm, wrapping his hands around it, squeezing its hardness. Beads of sweat appeared on his upper lip and forehead as he felt the contours of the muscle.

"Yeah, I like it," he said, breathless.

He didn't flinch when Jared stepped up, undid Sean's pants, let them fall, reached in and pulled out Sean's cock, holding it while it reached full erection. Ronnie put Sean's hands on his massive pecs, and those hands, with wills of their own, felt the hard contours of Ronnie's pecs, lifted them to feel their weight, felt the surface, the cuts around them, the hardness, the thickness, as Sean looked at them with rapture.

He felt Jared moving around behind him, keeping one hand on his cock, reaching around from behind him to stroke and feel his hairy chest and belly. He wasn't big like these guys, but right then, he felt hard and cut and hot as hell.

"Got great potential. Good genes. You got a real nice hairy ass here, good shape to it, gonna muscle up real nice," Jared said behind him.

Jared moved his own hard cock against Sean's virgin ass, and Ronnie leaned in and covered his mouth with his lips, and when they wanted to enter him, Sean felt his hunger take them in.

Word spread that Sean had become their "houseboy," and the term was used with all the euphemistic sarcasm that inferred what his real job was. But Sean didn't care. He was busy keeping the household in order, working as an agent, and developing into a noticeably muscular young stud. When Keen came with his dad to start a workout program, he knew all about Sean, and to the fourteen year old boy, the twenty-four year old houseboy seemed the epitome of glamour—handsome, successful, growing quite muscular, and openly sexual, a feeling that had just sprouted in Keen along with his new pubic hairs.

"He's young," Tyler told Jared, "but he's eager and ready to learn, and I think he's got the genetics to be a fine specimen at a very young age. Treat him well, don't embarrass me, but spare him nothing."

So it was that after a workout, they invited Keen to have a swim and relax, and, as it turned out, Sean was already swimming, nude, in the pool.

"We all swim naked here, Keen. We're all guys. We all have the same equipment and do the same things with it. Just have fun. Don't worry."

Tyler had requested that Keen be given the formula in only small amounts so the results would be more fitting for a fourteen year old, but even in the low dosage, the effect worked in concert with his newly raging hormones, and the sight of Sean's muscular, hairy body made Keen's small prick spring to attention even as he hurried into the water. Sean came down to the shallow end, letting Keen see that his own cock, now a healthy, thick ten incher, was hard, too. He asked him if he'd ever seen a grown up guy with a boner. Keen said no, and Sean said, well, cool. Everyone gets them. Sean asked Keen if he knew about jacking off, which Keen did, so Sean challenged him by saying he bet he never messed around with another guy, like feeling his boner or even sucking on it, like lots of guys do. Keen shied from the subject, asking Sean how old he'd been when he got all that hair.

"About fourteen, I guess," Sean said, lifting himself up to sit on the edge of the pool, his legs spread, his hard cock at face level to Keen, "why? You like it? Some guys do and some don't. I liked getting it."

"Yeah," Keen said, "I think it looks cool."

"Come on up here," Sean said, "Don't be embarrassed. It looked like you're starting to get some. That's cool. Let me see."

"It's just a little," Keen said, lifting himself out of the pool to sit next to Sean.

"That's how it starts. But it'll come in fast, with that stuff they're giving you to get you muscular. You like that they're gonna get you real muscular?"

"Yeah, I think it's cool. I asked my dad."

"I know. I heard them talking. You'll look great. You like my muscles?" Sean flexed. "They've put about thirty pounds on me already. Feels great."

"Yeah, they look really cool."

"Go on, Keen. You can feel 'em if you want. You can feel my hair, too. You can even feel my boner if you want. It's big, huh?"

"Yeah," Keen said. "I hope mine gets big."

"It will. Go on, if you want. You can even make me cum, and then I'll do it to you. Feels really great. Especially if you do it by sucking on it. You want to try?"

Keen reached over and touched Sean's arm, felt his flexed biceps, then he touched the hair where Sean's trail picked up just beneath his belly button.

From the window that overlooked the pool room, Tyler watched his son's initiation with Jared and Ronnie, all three of them so hard they were dripping precum as they watched.

Read next part

CAPTCHA