Gold’s Gym in Venice, CA was the epicenter of the bodybuilding explosion that started in the early 1970s. In this tale, Peter writes about a real person, completely straight, and never interested in him. In fiction, you can turn the tables, as you will see.

I paid 15 dollars for a month’s membership at Gold’s Gym. I was obsessed with a handsome lifter there, Steroid Steve. I have a fetish for men with small penises, and Steve was truly small. His thick, muscular legs, enhanced by anabolic steroids, caused the tiny member to almost disappear. I got rock hard every time I thought about him.

I have quite the opposite problem. My cock is extremely long and impossibly thick. It makes my back hurt just carrying it around in front of me. Men, particularly those who have an insecurity about their own size, never hesitate to humiliate me. They call me “gate crasher” or “baloney pony”. My least favorite insult is when they brush their feet on the floor and whinny like a horse.

I knew I had no chance of getting together with Steve. He was too small to successfully fuck me, and I was too big to fuck him. He wore a wedding ring and dropped hints about his wife while he was lifting on the main floor.

A few Saturdays ago, I came to the packed gym. I wanted to use the Universal Fitness machine, but every station was three deep with a waiting list. As I approached, a pig-eyed dolt with ugly curly hair made a stomp and whinny. Out of nowhere, Steroid Steve appeared and confronted the ugly freak.

“Hey, Jack, leave the guy alone. He’s here to work out like the rest of us.”

Jack snarled and walked away. He was big, but Steve was way bigger.

I exhaled. “Thanks, Steve.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “I don’t know your name. You are…” he extended a hand.

“Peter. Peter Schutes. Your reputation precedes you, that’s why I knew your name.” As I took his hand and shook, I sounded like a confused schoolgirl.

Steve laughed. “Which reputation is that?”

“I mean, everyone calls you Steroid Steve.” I hoped that wasn’t insulting.

Steve’s eyes drifted below my waistline. “I think I understand why Jack was acting so rude.”

I braced for an insult. None came.

Steve said, “I get teased over the same body part, but for the opposite reason.” I didn’t dare tell him that I knew all about it. I just nodded like I was receiving new information.

“What do they say when they tease you?”

Steve sighed. “Cashew, peanut, gnat, you know, the usual. And they are fond of holding up a pinky and putting their thumb on the first segment. That one gets me the most.”

“Oh man, I’m sorry.” I didn’t dare tell him that I found it incredibly sexy. He was straight. Instead, I changed the subject.

“Married?” I pointed to the ring.

He nodded. “Not happily.”

My inner seducer couldn’t keep quiet. “What makes you happy?”

He patted the front of my pants. “If I could have about a quarter of that, I’d be happy.”

Steve’s hand on my cock was completely unexpected. I was too giddy to check my words before they came out. “I could probably get halfway.”

Steve frowned. “What do you mean?”

Shit. I’d lost focus. “I mean, I’d be happy with half of this. Heck, maybe even a quarter.” I grabbed the base of my monster and pinched it, causing it to show through my sweat pants all the way down to my knee.

Steve coughed. “Holy fuck! What do the ladies say?”

“What ladies?” I let that hang in the air for a while. Steve didn’t inquire further.

“Hey buddy, we’re gonna be here all day if we wait for the machine. I’ll spot you, you wanna spot me?” He gestured to the huge gym floor with free weights scattered everywhere. Bodybuilders are messy men in general. They ignore the sign admonishing them to put the weights back where they belong.

When Steve bent over to gather the weights we would need, his ass ate his shorts. It was the roundest, most perfectly shaped ass I had ever seen. I stared glassy-eyed at the heavenly butt. I came around when Steve caught me looking.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer. And it’d probably fetch a good price on mail order.” I was relieved he didn’t call me a fag.

We worked out for a good hour. Steve lifted three times the weight I did. I could barely spot him, the bar was so heavy. He spotted me with one finger. It was a testament to all the Lord gives and all he takes away. At the end of the workout, we hit the showers.

Saturdays meant that stalls came on a first-come first-served basis. They were all taken. Steve and I both knew better than to go to the open showers where all the regular guys washed themselves. We were freaks in their eyes. They would harass me from envy, and Steve from a sense of superiority. There was no need for either of us to say this out loud. It was a lifelong condition for both of us.

Finally, two stalls opened up at the end of the row, opposite each other. I took the left and Steve took the right. My shower curtains had been torn by some clumsy oaf. Steve’s was no better. Because we were at the very end of the row, we didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. I lathered up, spending a long time on my cock. Steve spent most of his time on his big, beautiful ass. I wondered if he was sending signals. Then he whistled.

“Damn, motherfucker! Is that soft?”

I nodded. “But if you keep washing your ass like that, it’s gonna get bigger.” And it did. I went from big to huge, then huge to monstrous. Steve’s eyes were riveted on my cock. He licked his lips.

He rubbed his thumb up and down his ass crack, eying my meat hungrily, eyebrows raised. He turned, and I could see his tiny penis was at attention. I wanted to suck it so badly.

Steve said, “I live in Culver City, with my wife.”

“I live in Santa Monica, alone.”

“I’d like to see your place, Pete.”

That wasn’t all he wanted to see. Once again, my horribly oversized cock had hooked a straight fish. I didn’t know how it was going to work, but I didn’t care. Nature finds a way.

By the time we walked from Venice to my place on Pico, the hot vibe had chilled a bit. Steve looked around like he was having second thoughts.

I watched his eyes dart about. “Steve, are you cool?”

Steve nodded. His mustache turned up as he smiled. “I’m just so fucking nervous. I’ve never done it with a guy like you.”

That put my mind at ease. He’d done it with other guys. “I’ll always be the biggest, but how big was the previous record holder?”

Steve concentrated. “Some Austrian asshole. Thinks he owns the place. I can’t stand his personality. But fuck! He wasn’t hung like a horse, but it was damn big.”

I winced a little at the implied accusation. I was hung like a horse. Stomp! Whinny! But he didn’t mean it that way.

“What’s the smallest you’ve ever been with, Pete?”

I shrugged. “Three inches, maybe.”

“I got him beat by an inch at least.” Steve blushed. He was an outwardly proud and confident man, but this was his Achilles heel. He was ashamed.

It was time for me to say what I had wanted to say back at the gym. “I love them small. The smaller, the better. I love when the whole package fits in my mouth. And little ones always cum so much more.”

Steve smiled. “I didn’t know there were people out there like you. My wife says I’m useless.”

As we stepped over the threshold to my apartment, I put a firm hand on Steve’s ass. “I like the whole package. Your ass is a monument to the male form.”

Steve kissed me very suddenly. He put a hand down the front of my pants and put his hand on the root of my rapidly expanding cock. He undid my belt buckle, letting my chinos fall around my ankles. There was no underwear that could contain me, so I was fully exposed.

I kneeled, unbuttoning Steve, exposing his tiny package. I put my mouth over it like a mother’s nipple. I flicked his clit-like penis with my tongue.

He moaned. “Pete, not too fast. I cum quickly.”

“And often, I hope?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I got a few loads in me. You’ll see.”

And I did. It took less than a minute for Steve to shudder and release a flood of cum in my mouth. I gulped it down like milk. Steve threw his head from side to side, sucking air and grunting.

After another minute, the orgasm ended. Steve’s shallow breaths returned to normal. He grinned. “Okay, my turn.” He bent over, spreading his ass cheeks, revealing a pink squirming hole. I moved him to the sofa.

I did my best to hide my skepticism. Unless he was really experienced, he wouldn’t even get the head in. I kept a tub of Albolene in the telephone table drawer. Steve took a big glob and applied it generously around and inside his hole. Meanwhile, I applied several generous helpings along the length and girth of my manhood.

“Steve, are you sure you want this? It’s going to hurt.”

“Dude, I’m a bodybuilder. I live for the burn.”

Not surprisingly, when I put my head at the entryway, it wouldn’t go any further. Steve pulled apart his ass cheeks to show a sliver of darkness in the middle of his pink pucker. That was my guide.

“Fuck me, Pete. I can take it.”

He flexed his hole open wider, allowing the tip of my head to enter. I pushed gently, but could go no farther.

“Pete, I mean it. Fuck me hard! Put it in me!”

I felt a rush of joy come over me. This man was my ideal lover. He wanted to please me, and he let me please him. To anchor his ass in place, I held him by the crotch. I could feel dribbles of precum forming rivulets in my hand. It made me even harder. Steve screamed.

“Oh god, I’ve hurt you!”

“No. You got really big for a second but it’s good now. Just keep pushing hard.”

With an audible pop, I heard my head pass his inner sphincter. Even though my cock gets thicker all the way to the base, it still felt like a milestone. I got another six inches inside him before I hit the back of his rectum. I turned him on his side and pushed deeper, entering the colon.

Steve’s eyes fluttered in his head. “Oh fuck man, I’m gonna fucking pass out.” And he did. When he came to a few moments later, I was most of the way in. I had only about six inches to go. Steve wrapped his powerful legs around my waist and forced me all the way in. His eyes were fogged over from pure pleasure. He pushed me back with his feet, then pulled me in.

He did this a few times, establishing a rhythm. “Okay Pete, you’re in charge now.”

He pulled off his t-shirt, revealing a powerful sweaty back and huge pectoral muscles dappled with fur. I got super hard and he winced.

“Oh yeah. Don’t hold back. Fuck my ass.”

I thrust in and out with an ever increasing speed. When I knew he could take it, I pulled the head of my cock right back to the entrance, then thrust it all the way inside his colon. The effect on Steve was extreme. He couldn’t use words anymore, just guttural noises. Looking into his eyes, I could see a distant galaxy. His lips moved in time with my jackrabbit paced fucking.

Steve’s tiny dick was almost gushing precum. The clear sticky goo soiled the suede cushions of my couch. I didn’t care. My cock was completely buried inside this muscle god, and then it was almost out, then all the way in again, over and over. I had been with some pretty talented bottoms, but none of them let me fuck them this deep or this fast. Steve was the best fuck of my life.

I could see Steve was about to cum hands free. I rotated him so his cock faced me. I opened my mouth, and caught the first massive load. I got the second and third spurts, too, then it shot all over my legs. It was so warm, I thought for a second he had pissed himself. I’d seen it happen plenty of times before, especially if I fucked hard and fast. Sure enough, after the cum came a fountain of piss, ruining my couch. It was worth it.

The sense of power I felt at being able to make another man cum and piss against his will was overwhelming. I felt a tingling in my balls that meant things were coming to their conclusion, at least for the moment.

“Steve, I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s mouth hung agape, but he nodded. Only a moan escaped his lips.

I reached the zenith of my speed and ferocity. Steve started punching the arm of the couch. He broke it with his powerful arms and rock hard fist. His huge glute muscles clamped around my cock like a vise. The added pressure was the tipping point. With my cock somewhere in his lower digestive tract, I fired round after round of cum inside the sexy bodybuilder.

With straight guys, I never kissed. But Steve pulled me close and rubbed his mustache against my lips. I had to break my rule. We locked tongues, exploring each other’s mouths. I enjoyed the sensation of his mustache tickling the hairs of my nose. He tasted like cigarettes and testosterone.

We remained in that embrace for a long time. My cock softened, but it was too thick for Steve to push it out on his own. As long as I stayed wrapped in his arms, I was buried inside him. At last, he let go and I stood up. Slowly, the mass of my cock came dislodged and exited Steve’s asshole, followed by an obscene river of cum.

Steve came out of his reverie. “Oh shit, did I say anything stupid?”

“No, you didn’t say anything at all.”

Steve frowned. “Darn. I hoped I said something stupid like ‘I love you’.”

He left his shrew of a wife and moved in with me. He couldn’t afford to replace the sofa, so I made him work it off. His ass was so loose, his farts came out like a whisper.

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