Come to Me 2
Eric looked at himself in the mirror.
It was a year since he had joined the firm and started eating big and this afternoon he was going to engagement party for Clarissa and Sam at the botanical garden.
Studly, the voice said.
Eric had to agree.
At 5'10 and 200 lbs., Eric was an inch taller and 60 lbs. heavier than he had been 12 months earlier, and it was all in the right places. For that matter, it was apparent that lean as he had been then he was even leaner now. His trainer friends at the gym all agreed that his bodyfat ratio was clearly less than 10 percent.
He had gotten into the habit of measuring once a month and he was pleased with the latest numbers:
Chest: 48 inches
Shoulders: 54 inches
Waist: 29 inches
Biceps: 19 inches
Quads: 28 inches
Calves: 19 ½ inches
Neck: 18 ½ inches
It didn't hurt that his strength was likewise off the charts. The previous weekend, with half the gym watching and two of the big powerlifters spotting him, he had benched 600 lbs. for a single rep, three times his bodyweight.
His "Fuck Yeah!" roar at the end distracted most (but not all) from the nine-inch tent in his shorts, something he took care of in the shower not long thereafter.
"Hi, I'm Sam," the big man said, sticking his giant paw out at Eric. "You must be…?"
Eric had met Sam not long after he'd begun working with Clarissa but not since then. He'd beat off many times remembering his brief encounter with the 6'4, 275 lb. NFL stud and now he was blushing and trying not to stammer.
"I'm Eric," he replied, taking Sam's proferred hand and giving it a good squeeze. A year ago he'd nursed his hand for days afterwards but this time Eric returned the favor, testing his grip against Sam's as the hunk's eyes widened slightly. Even though it was an extra-large, the sleeve of his Kenneth Cole polo shirt bunched up around Eric's thick, veiny bicep.
I guess I was too much of a dweeb for him to remember, Eric thought to himself, then said aloud.
"You know, Clarissa and I share a cubicle at Farnsworth Hanks."
This time Sam's eyes widened a lot.
"Eric? The OBF?" Sam exclaimed.
"'Office Best Friend,'" Clarissa supplied, reading Eric's mind (something she was scarily good at doing!)
Sam casually draped his 22-inch arm around Clarissa's shapely swimmer's shoulders, a little more possessively than usual.
"Damn, hon," he said. "You forgot to mention that the OBF was, like, y'know, all STUDLY and stuff."
Eric's thick dick lurched in his pants.
Not now, not now, not now!
"Whatever happened to that little guy you worked with? Keith something?"
Clarissa rolled her eyes.
"Earth to Sam!" she exclaimed, elbowing the big man in the ribs. "It's Eric KEITH! He was a lot smaller when you first met him last year!"
Sam's mouth sagged.
"Really? Damn, son, you've been doing some work, haven't you?"
Eric took a sip from his long neck and folded his arms.
"You could say that, yeah."
And I wonder what else you've been doing? Sam thought. The NFL player was no stranger to the various forms of chemical assistance one could employ.
"He's been eating like a horse," Clarissa pointed out, disentangling herself from Sam's clutches. "And YOU have more to worry about from Eric than I do."
Eric raised his beer in a silent toast.
"Yep, it's true. What Clarissa in her oh-so-subtle way is trying to say is that I'm the GBF, not the OBF!"
Sam's eyes widened.
"Oh, really? The GAY best friend? Hey, no offense, but I'd've never guessed!"
Eric laughed and fist-bumped the big man.
"None taken, Big Man," he said. "Just don't get all weirded out on me if you catch me looking your way!"
It was Clarissa's turn to laugh.
"Not to worry, Stud," she said. "Sam is one of those rare straight men who actually enjoys being hit on by gay men."
Amazingly, Sam blushed.
"Well, it's true," he said. "All the satisfaction, none of the commitment."
Eric looked down to find Clarissa's finger in the cleft between his thick round pecs.
"The one you need to worry about is ME," she said. "Lookee is fine, touchee – I cut you!"
Just then, Clarissa's mother bellowed for her daughter.
"Go find him some food," she told Sam as she rushed off to placate the woman paying for her wedding. "He's always hungry."
Sam dropped his big arm on Eric's broad shoulders and steered him toward the BBQ station.
"Damn, man, you look strong," Sam said. "We should catch a workout sometime!"
You're on the way, the voice said. Come to me.