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  Trent started to count the number of plates that were loaded on the bar sitting on the floor, saying, “Shit, brother, how much weight?”

  “Seven-sixty-five,” Will said.

  Trent shook his head while exhaling. His hands went firmly to his hips. “I’m at four-ninety-five man.”

  Will shrugged those boulders he could call shoulders. “Well, I haven’t done it yet man. Going for a new PR.”

  Trent continued shaking his head. He wished his personal record could even begin to make a dent in that number.

  “Okay, so you ready?” Will asked, slapping his hands together.

  Trent nodded, following the man’s lead.

  Will flung his arms back and forth a few times before centering himself over the bar. He reached down and seized it, alternating his grip – one overhand and one underhand – while his back was in a neutral position. His feet were a comfortable distance apart, shins about an inch away from the bar, and those Chucks, with their flat soles, were on to help provide stability.

  “Why aren’t you barefoot?” Trent asked as he took up position close to Will. He knew that this particular grip was stronger but more susceptible to imbalances, so was looking to minimize the risk.

  Will raised his head and gazed at him; his eyes bore right into Trent’s skull. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me without them on.”

  “If you say so,” Trent responded, watching Will return his chin to a tucked position. Things were now in place to help Will in case he slipped or took a tumble backwards during the motion.

  I for one hope that doesn’t happen, Trent wished, because three hundred pounds of beef coming at me isn’t going to do much damage to anything other than me.

  The next few seconds were nothing short of mind-blowing. Trent observed Will in awe as he locked the bar then rose, bringing himself to a standing position after some extremely shaky moments near the start of the lift. The bar was bent so much it looked like it was going to snap in two. His body was a powerful forest of sinew and veins.

  After a pause and with his face puce from strain, Will started to lower the weight. Once past his knees, he let go and the whole assembly crashed into the ground with a tremendous boom.

  “Fuck yes man!” Trent said as the racket subsided. “You did it!”

  Will took a few sweaty moments to catch his breath, smiling after his skin returned to a normal shade of human. “Thanks bro,” he said, wiping his forehead with the bottom of his tank top.

  Trent couldn’t help but notice Will’s abs, which were far blockier and pronounced than his had ever been. It literally looked like a turtle shell had been attached to the man’s stomach.

  Will noticed Trent’s eyes. He lowered his shirt.

  “Well, as great as that was, brother, I have to get some paperwork done.” Trent began with the intent of inserting an excuse to get away before Will could talk…

  “About Miami, man. How was the trip?” he asked. “Did you end up getting everything you needed for marketing the franchise?”

  Trent nodded modestly. “That and more.”

  Will looked like a man who had caught a prized fish in a net. “Good stuff, man.”

  An awkward silence entered the conversation. Trent didn’t know if he should stay and see it through or just walk toward his bag – and then right out the front door again.

  “So…” Will said, and Trent had his answer. “I figured I’d go ahead and cash in that IOU for arranging the Palmers. I’m sure you understand… not liking debts and all.”

  “I know exactly where you’re coming from,” Trent replied, though he was unsure where this was going, “but maybe we can –”

  “Without me, brother, there wouldn’t have been a trip to Miami, or an agency…”

  That’s when Trent knew Will had him right by the balls. “What is it you want?” he asked.

  “Just a workout,” Will answered. “Think you’re up for it?”

  Trent didn’t reply right away. There had to be a catch.

  “Hello? Trent? Earth to Trenton James Cassidy. Do you copy? Over.”

  Trent snapped out of his mild stupor. “Shit you know how much I hate it when people say that, Bill! So, seriously, that’s all you want? Just a lift?”

  Will smirked at the notion, and any relief Trent might have felt went away faster than a six pack on a diet of donuts. “Now come on Trent,” he said. “You of all people know it’s never that easy. Don’t get me wrong, I do want that workout – surprised we haven’t done one yet – but what I’m wanting to see is how well Casanova Cassidy lives up to his reputation.”

  That’s just it, big guy. Not sure I want to be your bitch, Trent retaliated, trying to hide his mental apprehension in a contrived look of deep thought.

  “What’s the matter? Have to take a dump?”

  Trent pitched Will a stare that would have sent other guys running. As suspected, he was immune; exactly what Trent feared.

  No pressure Trent.

  “You ready man?” Will smacked Trent squarely in the back. “Go take some pre-workout and meet me at the squat rack. I’m sure you’re used to big loads on leg days by now.”

  Chapter 4

  Powerhouse

  Trent had gone from his office (checking that things were kosher since he’d been gone) to the locker room (where he dropped off his gym bag and mixed his pre-workout). The entire time was spent mired in a strange mix of anxiety and excitement. He hated that feeling – it made him feel less in control. Taking a long gulp from his shaker bottle, he thought, This isn’t like you. It’s sex… with Will! Is that such a bad thing?

  The dissenting voice in Trent’s head had a point. He’d been with guys just as big – well nearly as big – and had great times, so that couldn’t be it. This was different. This was Will.

  Trent reminisced about his time with Jonny. That situation had undeniably opened new doors and horizons, sure, but this felt more like one of those boundaries someone couldn’t and shouldn’t cross without the future irreparably changing.

  That’s it! the voice realized as Trent finished the last part of his drink. You’re scared! The fact you don’t know how things might change frightens the shit out of you. Especially with this franchise fast becoming a reality and Will being a huge cornerstone of that effort.

  “I’m not scared of Will…” Trent said dissentingly.

  You can say that all you want, his thoughts continued, but you’re afraid of how you’d be perceived if you say no. “Cassidy backed out on a deal?” folks will whisper…

  “Keep trying… that’s not it…”

  There’s also the chance he’ll change gyms if he’s disappointed with you or that reputation of yours, and take all those other clients he’s brought to the competition.

  “So, you’re saying he’s got me over a barrel?”

  Yes, but it’s one that you built. Whether you like it or not, Will’s an integral part of Swole, Trent. By your own doing.

  Trent didn’t like that fact, but it was true. Rushing back to the leg room after spending far too much time mulling over the situation, he still didn’t know if he should stop this train in its tracks or ride it out to the destination?

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Trent snapped as he arrived.

  “Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” Will was wrapping his knees with grimy white straps.

  Stepping onto the hard floor around the squat rack, Trent leaned on an empty weight tree. “Now I know how Jonny felt,” he whispered, noting the plates were loaded for a four-hundred-five-pound set.

  “What was that?” Will asked as he finished.

  “Nothing,” Trent replied. “Just over here shitting myself.”

  Will laughed fleetingly, then took his place under the bar. He cranked out his set, making the whole thing look easy. The last few reps were shaky and pained grunts filled the room just before the finishing clang.

  “Legs throbbing, Powerhouse?” Trent asked.

  “Not as much as last week,
but yeah. Though now I get to rest for a few. You’re up pretty boy.”

  With lower weight and a higher number of groans, Trent banged out his set. Though neither said it outright, there was a bit of a competition happening as they traded spots for their respective turns. The duo continued the routine for four more grueling sets, and by the end, their legs were near bursting.

  “Freaky goodness,” Trent said, rubbing the outer sweep of his thighs. He looked at himself in the mirror, throwing out a quick double biceps pose.

  “Be sure to tuck your thumbs,” Will said, correcting Trent’s pose. “It’ll bring out some forearm definition while making your fists look smaller and your arms look bigger.”

  “Yeah, well, no pump and all since we’re doing legs today, so…” Trent countered. “I’ll give it a go next arm day, though.”

  “Be sure to count me in for that,” Will said with a wink, followed by the same pose. He dwarfed Trent. “But that’s for another day. Next stop now; lunges.”

  To Trent, the next half hour felt like any other workout, except for the intimidating mass-monster moving at least twice the weight he was. Once the lunges were done, leg extensions were next, and finally leg curls. He was dabbing sweat off his face when Will came up behind him. Trent could smell the distinct, manly scent of deodorant and hard work lingering in the air.

  “I want to wrap up with one more thing,” Will said, a burly hand clasping Trent’s shoulder as if it was one of the bars. Surprisingly, he squeezed.

  “What did you have in mind?” Trent asked while thinking, this is certainly new.

  “Just some good girls and bad girls,” Will replied, referring to the abductor and adductor machines. He worked a thumb deep into Trent’s hard muscle. “Man, your stiff…”

  “That’s what he said,” Trent joked, “or… or she of course, depending on who we’re –”

  Will didn’t wait for Trent to finish, shifting his bulky frame into Trent’s peripheral vision. Quite a large dick print was visible in those gray sweats.

  Surely that’s just a wrinkle in the fabric? Trent surmised. The outline ended way down Will’s leg, much further than he’d expected given the stereotypes around huge bodybuilders. Bill, you better not outclass me everywhere, you genetic freak.

  As Trent watched (while trying not to look like he was watching), Will grabbed the base of his tee. He tugged the shirt upward and his back spread out so far that the shirt got stuck a few times.

  “Um, need help?”

  “No,” Will answered abruptly, the shirt breaking free from its muscle-bound prison. “Now, I think since you’re the bad one of the bunch, you should get on those bad girls.” Will threw his shirt on the ground, turned (Jesus, that back), and stood beside the abductor machine. He moved the pin all the way to the bottom and motioned toward it. “Two-ninety-five okay?”

  “Yeah, that’s good,” Trent answered. Taking a seat with his legs closed between two vinyl pads, Trent’s hardening dick got caught in the hem of his shorts.

  “What’s that about?” Will asked with a tone of surprise. He pointed toward Trent’s junk.

  Trent was a little confused. “Damn, how’d he get out?” Trent started to put it away.

  “Woah, woah…” Will responded. He stepped right in front of Trent. “I asked what that is about…”

  Trent looked up at the beast, whose square chest was heaving above his brick and mortar torso. It was a daunting sight yet, since Will’s eyes were also roving over Trent’s sweating body, he took a chance and replied, “It’s about a good fucking time.”

  “Damn right it is.” A smile broke across Will’s lips. “Now come on, just one set. Spread ‘em.”

  Eagerly, Trent pushed his legs outward against the pads, slowly forcing the weights up. As he continued with each rep, those shorts rode further up and his cock inched further out. Near the end, most of Trent was hanging free.

  “Hold that last rep,” Will said forcefully.

  Trent did as he was told, straining to keep nearly three-hundred pounds from closing his legs again.

  Will reached down between Trent’s legs and clutched his dick. Since his hands were larger than many other guys, he could wrap them fully around Trent’s girth.

  “Now close,” Will said. “For a five count.”

  Trent grimaced, both agony and ecstasy surging through his legs as the weights descended over those five seconds.

  Will’s grip on him was also tight, and he stroked Trent the whole time, coaxing out large drops of shiny precum. “Atta boy,” he said, using his thumb to spread juice all over Trent’s head.

  Trent shuddered, then moaned.

  “Now it’s my turn on adductors,” Will said, letting go. “Snag a forty-five-pound plate for me.”

  Trent stood, then grabbed a plate from the closest tree. That fucker wrapped his bear paws all the way around! Trent thought as he made way for the adductor machine. Thanks for the complex, bro! Putting the pin at two-ninety-five, Trent dropped two additional five-pound adjustments, finally pinning the extra forty-five on. “Gotcha set,” he said. “Three-fifty for the big guy.”

  Trent expected to hear a snarky reply, or at least see Will walking over, but what he saw was the thing he least expected.

  Will had his back turned, busy removing his sweatpants one sinewy tree trunk at a time. When he was out, kicking the sweats out of the way, Will stretched, flexing his powerful glutes, hamstrings, and every other muscle in view. Since he’d also been commando, Will’s large balls were swinging between his legs, along with a monstrous shape that foreshadowed things to come.

  Trent appreciated the sight from several perspectives – there was a lot of hard work on display and the obvious one that it was hot as sin – but it was when Will swung back around, and Trent got a full view of what he was packing, that he realized Will Marsh had won the goddamn genetic lottery. Yup, if there was ever a person that needed to have their picture plastered by the words “absurd,” “manhood,” and “tore the fuck up” it would be him.

  Nobody needs a pole like that, Trent justified to himself. He might have been jealous. Nine by six – the dimensions of a decent paperback book – was certainly nothing to sneeze at, but Will… shit, those extra inches were just cruel.

  “Thanks,” said Will at last. It was like he wasn’t even naked, except that pendulous horse cock was swinging like an inflatable tube man as he paraded by.

  Will took a seat in the machine, this one set up with his legs spread apart, straddling the pads. Using one hand, he adjusted the equipment wider, while the other one made sure to move his dick out of harm’s way (so it didn’t get crushed when he brought his legs together). Placing it along his torso, the tip went well past his belly button.

  Trent shook his head as Will cranked out a solitary, slow rep. His muscles were tense and his cock, well it swayed like an inviting finger. A giant’s finger.

  Nope, not jealous at all…

  “That’s it?” Trent asked. “Just one rep?”

  Will shook his head. “Nope. I need more weight.”

  “Another forty-five? On it.” Trent started to grab another plate.

  “Good choice of words, but not that kind of weight.” Tilting his head, Will’s dick was throbbing.

  “Jesus,” Trent said, followed by a short chuckle. “Here I thought you were the good girl in this scenario?”

  “Oh, I still am. Real good.”

  “I see nothing good about this situation,” Trent folded his arms and puffed out his chest.

  “That’s because I’ve not even started with you yet,” Will stated. “Now, just shut up and get over here, Trenton. Lose the clothes while you’re at it – you look like bottles of ketchup and mustard got together to make one ugly-ass baby.”

  “Fine,” Trent said like a kid throwing a tantrum. Sneering, he stripped off the stringer and shorts, tossing them aside without an ounce of finesse.

  Will was watching, both hands clasped firmly around the base of his cock.
One was stacked above the other with room to spare; the engorged thing was easily over three hands long.

  Trent reached the machine, realizing Will’s hands couldn’t fully close around his rager.

  Fuck my life…

  “Climb on,” Will said.

  Trent started easily enough, but ascending that mountain of mass in that tight space wasn’t easy. “Would you be surprised if I told you I’d never done this?”

  “Since you’ve done everything and everyone under the sun, I would…”

  “Good, because that was a lie. I’ve done this a few times actually. Four if I remember correctly.” Trent nestled himself against Will’s lap, moving the large rod gently down the center of his ass cheeks. The thing was radiating heat. It told Trent how horny Will was. “Though now that I think about it, that could still be a true statement since I happened to be in your position all those the times.”

  Will seized Trent’s cock. “Can I use this thing as a lever to turn your chatterbox down?”

  Trent squinted, breathing heavily through gritted teeth as he stared straight into Will’s eyes. “No,” he panted, “but I know a couple of other things that would work.”

  “Yeah, I have couple things I plan to use,” Will said wryly. Leaning forward, he grabbed Trent at the back of the head, pulling him closer. Both men’s lips met and after the initial shock, pure passion took over.

  Trent’s hands intimately explored Will’s body as they rubbed against each other, taking every opportunity and liberty to caress his hair, grasp his hard flesh, and feel his titanic tool against his hole.

  During their ardent rapture, Will snatched one of Trent’s hands. He spit in it. Told him to rub the head until it was slick.

  “Yes…” Trent moaned. “Fuck, yes…” His eyes slid back into his head – Will started to push his way in.

  “My fucking God, you’re tighter than I expected,” Will bellowed.