A Muscle Daddy Built to Order
by Londonboy
Even a sexy bodybuilder can get lonely. Most people think we have it made, our big bodies allowing us to have any guy we’d like – at the gym or in the bar. Yeah, that’s usually true, but sometimes we want more. I get tired of going home with guys that just want me to flex and show off – you know, toss them around the room, lift them over my head with one hand, do push ups with them on my back, and all those things. Lately, I’ve been struggling to find someone that could fulfill me in a different way. It’s not that I don’t love being admired and worshipped, but I just desire something more. So the other night I sat down and made a list of all the things I’d really like to have in a partner.
Here’s what I came up with:
- Handlebar mustache (mainly because I can’t grow one)
- Mature man (I want him experienced and knowledgeable)
- As big as me or bigger (I want to be cared for sometimes)
- Cocky (At times, I want to be controlled)
- Cute or handsome (To match my hotness)
- Cultured (I want to learn from him)
- Loving (I want him to be romantic)
I looked at the list a few times and decided I wasn’t asking for too much. I also realized it would definitely be very hard to find someone that matched all of my criteria. I was about to give up when I remembered my crazy Aunt Hildie – the one everyone said was different from the rest of the family and the one I had only met two times in my entire life. For some reason, something she had said to me ten years ago when I was a senior in high school suddenly came flying back into my head. She had told me to make sure I looked her up when I was ready to finally settle down and choose a partner for life. The word ‘partner’ had always stayed with me. I had written it off, though, as just some crazy woman talking, but now I found the invitation curious and finally decided to take her up on it. Aunt Hildie lived on an island off of the southern tip of Florida – a place no one ever visited, but she seemed to like it. I wrote her a long letter and explained that I was gay and now that I was twenty-eight years old I had decided to settle down. I sent her the list of criteria that I required in my future husband. I also forgot about the letter as soon as it was mailed. I continued to screw any cute thing that drooled over my muscles and didn’t think about my list again until a box arrived from Florida.
It was from my Aunt Hildie and there were seven vials in the box along with a note. The handwritten message was short and to the point saying, “Jason, these will help your dreams come true. Wait a couple of days between each vial. I’m happy for you. Aunt Hildie.” And that was it. The tubes were labeled with a word from each of my seven criteria. I looked at the note again and just smiled at the craziness – not believing that my aunt could actually help me create the perfect mate. Even though all logic said I was a fool, I grabbed the first vial and headed to the gym. What the hell did I have to lose?
I entered the hardcore section of my no-frills club and immediately felt the appreciative stares from half the members. I knew I had the kind of face and body that turned heads and it felt good to know that even after seven years of coming to the place – not to mention having my way with many of the members – I still inspired dicks to spring to life and furtive glances to shoot my way. I gazed around the place with no embarrassment being so blatant in my perusal of every man. I was sure almost every gay man there – and a few of the straight guys – were hoping I’d let my eyes linger approvingly on them for more than a quick glance. There weren’t many guys in the place that would have turned me down for a quickie in the steam room or, heaven allowing, some quality time back at my place. It was well known that I got off on being worshipped and had the kind of body that deserved the special attention. Everyone knew I also had the kind of horse dick that most men loved to feel rammed far up into their ass – each man expecting that the simple act of walking would be a burden for a few days after. The simple fact was that I had never had a complaint about my abilities in bed and beyond.
Today, however, I was not looking for a well-built muscle worshipping pig or a virgin ass to plow – I was looking for the right man to become my potential pet project. I still thought it was completely crazy to think the vials Aunt Hilde had sent were going to do anything, but a part of me was so gleefully turned on by the idea that I could create the perfect muscle stud partner that I took my time reviewing the clientele of the gym to make sure I landed on the right person for the task. I ruled out all the guys I had fucked before, which knocked off half the people in the place. I then ruled out the straight guys that would be no fun – I wasn’t into converting men – I wanted someone that knew he was gay and liked all the pleasure that came with that knowledge. I then ruled out the guys that were already huge, knowing that half the fun would come from bestowing on some guy the body of his dreams. It was also easy to disregard the young boys – I was looking for a guy with some gray on him. Damn, the thought of some salt and pepper haired daddy growing for me made my cock twitch wildly. After my prioritizing and weeding out of those that didn’t make the mark I finally narrowed it down to two men. Both of them were in their mid-fifties and each had been stealing glances of me in the mirror ever since I had entered the gym. One of them looked like he was experienced with weights – performing his moves with accuracy that made it clear he knew what he was doing – and the other looked as if he had just recently started coming to the gym. He was pretty timid and looked way out of place in the area with the heavy weights. I chose the latter guy – any man that was so desperate to appreciate huge muscles that he’d embarrass himself in the big-man’s area was the right one for me. I caught his eye and then walked across the floor towards him – noting how he was so shocked he couldn’t move or look away.
“I’m Jason, cute fella, what’s your name.”
My forwardness and the big hand I held out in front of him made the guy suddenly forget how to speak and he just sat there staring. I let my perfect smile beam down at him as he sat on the bench below my massive chest – I even breathed in a little harder just to make my chest expand more dramatically. It was cool to watch the little guy finally give into his urges as he chose to stare at my heaving pecs instead of my face. It was also cool to cause his mouth to drop in awe just from a quick bounce of my two massive mounds – the guy’s eyes bobbing up and down to follow my heaving meat. All of this made it quite clear I had chosen the right candidate for my experiment. He limply shook my hand and we both noticed how my paw swallowed his.
“So, pops, you gonna just stare at my chest all day or are you going to tell me your name.”
“I’m Roman.”
“Speak up there, man. What’s the matter, something cause your mouth to go all dry?”
Roman just nodded his head up and down. This made me smile even more. The guy wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was in awe of my chest – hell; he was probably in awe of all of me. I moved my big frame down on the bench beside him, making sure my body pressed up against his when we were next to each other. I sat a few inches higher than him, so he had to continue to look up to see my face. It was good, though, that he was able to finally look me in the eye again – I’m not sure he could have handled much more of my massive chest.
“You look a little lost in the midst of all these weights, Roman. I’m guessing you’re pretty new to all this gym stuff, aren’t you?”
“Yes. I just retired and finally decided to join. This is only my second visit.”
The idea of this guy being retired in his early fifties made me happy – I could tell by his haircut and clothes that Roman had lots of money. It wasn’t something I desperately needed in a potential partner, but it helped. The thought of someday doing a lot of traveling with my beefed up muscle daddy thrilled me in a special way. My enthusiasm for all that was possible if Aunt Hildie wasn’t crazy made me move straight to the point with Roman.
“Well today is your lucky day, Roman. How about I help you with your initiation into weightlifting. I promise to go easy on you and the hazing phase won’t hurt too much. I’m just kidding – there’s no need to make that panicked face! Let me help you with all this stuff, okay. I think you’ve noticed that I’ve had a little success from working out.”
“Uh huh.”
The guy was so cute! He just couldn’t get over the fact that I was chatting with him. He also couldn’t keep his eyes locked with mine for even ten seconds. He looked at every part of my body – spending a lot of time at my crotch, obviously intrigued by the bulge that pushed my shorts out in a pornographic way. I decided it was time to move in for the final trophy.
“So before we begin, Roman, why don’t you drain this bottle of water I brought.”
“I . . . uh . . . have my own.”
“Yeah, but mine is fortified with some nutrients to help you recover from the workout. I don’t want you to be in a lot of pain tomorrow, sir.”
Roman looked at me with a slightly confused face. I held up my bottle and shook it a little – to help the stuff from Aunt Hildie mix in some more. My biceps was much more interesting to Roman and he actually started to visibly shake as he stared at my bulging arm. I flexed a little to keep his mind off the bottle he was presently taking from my hand. I watched with sheer joy as he twisted off the cap and then downed the enhanced liquid quickly – making it obvious that my arm had made his mouth dry up even more. He made a disgusted face after swallowing the entire contents of the bottle – the stuff in the vial was clearly not tasty. He shook his head back and forth a few times and then quickly looked at me – his face turning red.
“Um, I’m sorry Jason, but I . . . uh . . . suddenly feel . . . I mean . . . I can’t control . . . I’ve got to go.”
Roman’s hands went quickly to his crotch. I suddenly realized that a side effect of the stuff in Aunt Hildie’s vial was an instant hard-on – one that obviously made you need instant relief. Roman was breathing hard and beads of sweat had already formed across his forehead. I placed by big hand on his shoulder, hoping to prevent him from leaving. I wanted to study the effects of the liquid up close.
“You can’t go Roman, we haven’t even started.”
“Uh . . . I’m about to . . . um, I mean . . . I’ve got to go to the bathroom. Right now.”
“Well, can we meet tomorrow at the same time?”
“Yeah, yeah . . . I’ll see you then Jason.”
Roman then slid his body off the bench and out from under my large hand. He quickly stood up and started running toward the locker room. I watched as he tried to move briskly, but clearly with a raging hard-on that was making it almost impossible. There was something in this immediate reaction to the liquid that thrilled me beyond belief. I suddenly began to think there was something real about Aunt Hildie’s concoction. I forced myself not to follow Roman – knowing that it might make him feel uncomfortable. I saw him leave about fifteen minutes later – clearly still rock hard and desperately trying to cover the humongous wet stain at the crotch of his sweats. He glanced in my direction and waved timidly as he exited. My own cock suddenly sprung to a happy place at the thought of what had happened and what was to come.
The next day Roman did not show up at the gym. I waited for three hours, but he never arrived. I was sorely disappointed and at one point I became fearful that I had caused his death. I thought about asking the gym for his home number, but I knew their policy strictly forbade it. I knew I could probably get the information out of Rex, the guy that worked the front desk at night, if I promised to fuck him senseless – something he loved – but I decided to wait. I had already begun to trust Aunt Hildie in a way that was unexplainable. I returned to the gym at the exact time for four more days and waited three hours each time, but Roman never showed. On the fifth day, however, I was taking a break from benching some heavy weights and looked up to see him walk in. What I saw caused my entire body to start quivering and my cock turned into hard stone immediately. The scrawny older man’s body looked exactly the same, but covering the lower part of his face was the thickest and manliest handlebar mustache I had ever seen in my entire life. It was dark black-brown with gorgeous flakes of gray streaking downward. It was the face of a manly biker, a studly fireman, or a muscle daddy of almost any gay man’s dreams. My entire body was on fire with excitement. It was clear the first vial had worked. I jumped up off the bench and practically ran over to Roman.
“Hey man, it’s great to see you. I thought we were going to meet four days ago. Shit, dude, what a great mustache! It looks awesome.”
“Um, hi Jason. Yeah, sorry about missing you for a few days, but it’s been because of this mustache. It’s the wildest thing. I shave twice a day, but every morning I wake up with this same look. At first it freaked me out, but now I’ve grown to like it. It means a lot that you think it’s cool. I didn’t know what you’d think. I’m ready to take you up on your offer to help me work out.”
I couldn’t stop looking at his face. I had dreamed of a man with that exact face for years. I said a silent prayer of gratitude to Aunt Hildie and then began to smile. I was in heaven – especially since I knew the second vial was in my bag over by the bench we were now walking towards. I suddenly couldn’t remember what my second criteria had been, but I didn’t care.