#and get high and eat my god damn melons .!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fearless

Chapter 4: See the Lights, See the Party, the Ball Gowns

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Prince/King Liam x MC (Riley Brooks), Drake Walker x OC (Alyssa Devereaux)

Series Premise: Riley Brooks and Alyssa Devereaux became best friends as freshmen at Syracuse University, a borderline-sisterhood that lasts forever after. When Riley meets a handsome prince and is asked to compete for his hand in a mysterious faraway kingdom, she invites Alyssa along for moral support.

What the girls think will be a crazy temporary adventure becomes two sets of happily ever afters … with twice the shenanigans to show for it.

A/N: This series is written in loving collaboration between @bbrandy2002 and @burnsoslow.

Series Warnings: Smut 🍋🍋, language, canon violence (gun violence, bombing, terrorism), drug use, probably more stuff as we think of it. By reading this series, you agree that you are at least 18 years old and are prepared to deal with adult themes.

The girls spent their first morning in Cordonia with their respective sponsors, getting the first glimpses of courtly life and preparing for the Masquerade Ball taking place that evening. As much as they wanted to get out and experience all that this little Mediterranean country had to offer, there was just so much to do and little time to do it.

That morning, while Alyssa worked diligently on learning the steps of the Cordonian Waltz and etiquette with Rashad, Maxwell finally got Riley out of bed in time for a late breakfast. This included meeting his brother, Bertrand, who was none too thrilled with the former waitress from New York. Riley discovered rather quickly that the duke was nothing like the free-spirited Maxwell; if ever there was a picture display of a killjoy, she was sure his scowling face would be plastered dead in the center.

The day kind of went by in a dizzying blur, especially for Riley, who spent most of it either being lectured by Bertrand, or raiding the kitchen for stress snacks with Maxwell. And as far as anyone knew, Liam was still unaware that the quirky, raven-haired beauty he’d met two nights ago and never expected to see again was in his country, in his palace, and was about to come face-to-face with him.

If she didn’t die of anxiety first.

Neither of the girls saw each other until much later that afternoon when they linked up in Riley’s room before heading to the palace's salon for last-minute hair and nail appointments.

Later on in the boutique, Riley sucked in a deep breath and held in her stomach while Alyssa stood behind her, fighting to zip the back of the angel-themed costume she chose for the Masquerade Ball.

Actually, "chose" was a loose description in this case. The ensemble was one of the last two dresses in the palace's boutique, and Maxwell insisted Riley wear it instead of the more provocative red devil attire to make herself more appealing to the King and Queen. The Beaumont sponsee didn’t give two shits at that moment about impressing the monarchs; her major concern was how she would fit that size-four dress over her size-six body.

“What the hell did you eat, Ri? This zipper is not budging an inch," an out-of-breath Alyssa groaned as she attempted to pull the tight fabric closer together.

Steadying her feet firmly to the ground, a jostled-around Riley answered quietly, in a still manner, so as not to undo what little progress her friend had already made, "You know I'm a stress eater. I've experienced many emotions since we left yesterday, and food therapy helps. And your judgment is making me hungry again, so thank you for making it worse."

"I'm not judging you; I'm simply stating a fact: Your ass won’t fit in this dress."

Riley straightened up a little higher, hoping to thin her lean frame out more. "Well, it's gonna have to," she scoffed. "I can't be the only suitor at this ball without the proper attire."

Alyssa tugged harder in frustration. "You know, it might help if I could remove the price tag from the zipper."

"Perhaps." Riley sideways glanced at the two inattentive boutique cashiers before turning her head slightly over her shoulder to acknowledge her best friend in a hushed tone. "But then I wouldn't be able to return it in the morning. $700 for a damn dress is highway robbery, and I won't be a victim to this place's jacked-up prices." She glared back at the fashionably dressed women running the register and hollered out, "You should all be ashamed of yourselves!"

"Shhhh!" Alyssa's face burned with embarrassment while she smiled sheepishly at the bewildered ladies. "Are you crazy? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"You mean aside from the usual things that are wrong with me? I'm a nervous wreck, Lyss. Liam still doesn't know that I'm here. I'm about to go wine-and-dine with snobby rich people, while my socially awkward-o-meter is on red alert. And Maxwell's brother didn't like me. How am I supposed to impress Liam, the press, this council, and his parents when my own sponsor hates me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Alyssa replied. "Suck in your stomach a little more ... Rashad told me Duke Beaumont is high-strung and takes all this court business very seriously. If you ask me, give ‘The Brows’ some time. I know he'll love you. And Liam already does!" Alyssa stepped back in delight after tirelessly sliding the last bit of the zipper to the neckline. "Voila! I got it."

Riley stiffly turned toward the full-length mirror -- her insides feeling like they would pop right out of her -- and surveyed the finished product. "Not bad, not bad. A slight muffin top on the sides, and my ass cheeks are packed in tighter than my family around the dessert station at a buffet, but ... I think I can get by with it." Turning to face Alyssa, she lit up with anticipation. "Okay, now it's your turn."

Alyssa plucked the bright red dress off the rack and headed inside one of the many dressing rooms. A moment later, she emerged with a beaming smile on her face and held her arms out to the side to do a show-offish twirl. "So, how do I look?"

"Oh my god, Lyss!" Riley clapped excitedly. "You look so hot in that! That color of red really suits you too. Although, you might want to cover up the girls a little more; I've never seen your boobs look so huge."

"Wha --" Alyssa glanced down at her fully rounded chest, a substantial portion of which was spilling out over the top. She crossed her arms over her breasts in horror. "OH MY GOD! You're right: They're enormous in this thing. I can't go out there like this! They'll be stuffing dollar bills into my cleavage and begging for a lap dance!"

"Well, just ... try to tuck them in," Riley suggested, demonstrating her advice on herself. “You know, the way guys tuck in their junk.”

Alyssa shook her head adamantly, attempting to slide the top of the dress up higher. "I don't think that'll work. It's already extremely tight."

“That’s what he said,” Riley quipped with a snicker, much to the chagrin of her longtime friend, who simply blinked back. “Wow, not even a smile. Come on, Lyss, it’s not that hard.”

Alyssa grinned despite herself, “That’s what she said.”

Riley stepped closer, reaching out to grab a portion of the garment covering Alyssa's bosom, and declared, "Alright, If I can squeeze my fat ass into this dress, you can cram those giant melons into yours. So, get to pushin’, girl.”

-----------

After 10 minutes of stuffing uncooperative breasts into a gown, Alyssa and Riley stepped out of the boutique and made their way to the bottom of the main staircase outside of the ballroom, where Rashad and Maxwell were waiting eagerly for them.

A grim-faced Rashad approached the pair as they neared. “We were beginning to worry about you two. I hope you didn’t have any trouble.” He reached out and greeted Alyssa with a friendly kiss to the cheek as Riley made her way up to Maxwell, who did the same.

“No troubles,” Alyssa assured him, before staring down at her chest to make sure certain parts were still contained inside her dress. “Just some slight wardrobe issues that I think we’ve taken care of.”

Riley frowned, rubbing a soothing hand over her squeezed-in stomach. “Let’s just say we both feel like canned biscuits.”

“And I’m petrified of canned biscuits!” Alyssa shrieked, then spoke in a lower, punier voice in Rashad’s direction. “They make that popping sound that scares the hell out of me.” He nodded sympathetically at her admission, having no clue what canned biscuits were.

Maxwell let out a chuckle. “Either way, you both look awesome! Like two totally righteous peas in a pod and all that jazz.” He peeked over at Riley, who wasn’t appearing too sure of herself, or of anything for that matter, knowing she’d spent most of the day in a subtle panic. While she steadied her breath, he looped his arm through hers and leaned over. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. You’re going to go in there like the boss you are and knock them all dead. I just know it.”

Riley swallowed thickly, “But Liam --”

“Will be over the moon with excitement to see you again. Do you think I’d go through all the trouble of trying to convince you, and then Alyssa, to come all the way here -- not to mention, facing my brother’s wrath -- if I didn’t believe Liam would want to see you again?” Riley half-shrugged, but Maxwell could tell by the little glimmer of hope he caught in her eyes and the slight curl at the corner of her plush pink lips that she knew it was true. “If he’s not happy about seeing you, I’ll book you on the first flight back to New York, and you can punch me in the gut or something. But I can tell you with certainty: No man goes out with a woman and keeps his friends up most of the night talking about how amazing she was if he doesn’t want to see her again.”

Riley could feel a tinge of pink color her cheeks and looked away for a brief moment, knowing he was right. She was about to see her prince again. Simply knowing how happy Liam was when they parted ways that night made her heart flutter. The blushing suitor peered back at the towering man on her arm and smiled appreciatively. “Thanks, Max.”

As they both stared straight ahead at the set of double doors where Alyssa was making her grand entrance into the ballroom with Rashad, Riley pointed out, “You realize if you had said all that stuff to me this morning and five bloated pounds ago, I wouldn’t have cried to you all day over pints of ice cream, half a sheet cake, and a bag of Mini Snickers?”

Lord Beaumont grinned without looking at her as the orchestral music inside erupted through the newly opened threshold that awaited their crossing. A gleam of anticipation glistened the cobalt hue of his eyes.”That’s our cue. Time to look alive, Twinkle Toes, it’s showtime.”

__________

It felt like a million pairs of eyes bore through Riley when the announcer spoke her name out to the guest in the ballroom. In reality, few paid much attention to the young woman dressed in pure white, from the feathery halo perched above her fancy swept-up hairdo to the tiny heels that sparkled like glittery specks of fairy dust on her feet.

As Maxwell ushered her proudly through the spectacular crowd adorned in the finest silks and chiffons, faces concealed behind extravagant masks similar to hers, and opulent table spreads of gold and crimson, Riley searched the four corners of the room for one particular set of the bluest eyes she’d ever encountered -- she had Liam’s memorized by heart. However, the only ones she recognized came from her smiling best friend, standing casually beside the Lord of Domvallier at the bar, keeping her word to watch out for her. With a subtle grin from Alyssa to convey she had her back, the whirlwind of fear and chaotic thoughts that overwhelmed Riley quickly dissipated into thin air.

Baby steps.

While Maxwell and Riley headed to the center of the ballroom to meet up with Bertrand, across the way, Alyssa ordered a cranberry vodka from the bar. She was wearing red and needed a drink that matched perfectly with the fabric in case of accidental spillage. As the bartender poured her glass, she tore her vigilant gaze from Riley when Rashad’s cell rang. Seconds later, he covered his phone lightly with a palm and lowered it away from his ear to speak with her.

“This is my client in California. Will you be okay for a little bit while I take this out on the balcony?”

Alyssa nodded. “Of course. Take your time. Is there anything I should be doing while you’re gone?”

“Try mingling with the crowd. Get to know the other suitors. The best way to help Riley tonight is to get a feel for the competition. Figure out who you can potentially get on her side and who is going to cause her trouble.”

“With all due respect, this isn’t Survivor.”

Rashad grinned before excusing himself. “We'll see if you still feel that way by the end of the social season.”

What is it with all the Debbie Downers here? He sounds just like -- Before she could finish that thought, a stroke of irony occurred when she caught the denim-clad Drake, standing out like a sore thumb, making his way up to the bar. She quickly spun around on the barstool and hovered over her freshly poured beverage.

Tapping the bar's woodgrain top, Drake called for, “The usual,” before plopping down on the stool next to her. His woodsy scent filled the air and wafted in her direction; she wondered if he’d even recognize her.

Pressing the rim of the glass to her lips to take the first nervous sip of her drink, she wondered why she even cared if he did.

Alyssa set the vodka cranberry down on a cocktail napkin at the same time Drake reached for his tumbler of whiskey. A brush of their hands caused them both to retreat away before he bowed his head respectfully to her.

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Drake was quick to apologize. He never knew which stuck up nobles would have an issue with a commoner’s simple touch.

Alyssa lifted a brow and smirked in response. “So you do have manners?”

He’d recognize that wily voice anywhere. Grumbling, Drake responded. “Aww, hell! Pipsqueak? Is that you?”

“Hello, Sunshine.” She dimpled.

Drake shook his head. “I should have known. Of all the damn people in this room, I still managed to find you.”

“I would call that a very lucky day for you then.” Alyssa lifted her drink and tipped back a gulp. “So what’re you doing here? Don’t you have some royal cows or chickens to herd around or something? Who wears denim and jeans to a fancy ball?”

She would if she could get away with it.

His tight shoulder muscles bounced slightly with disingenuous laughter as his chestnut eyes took in her sultry devilish costume. “I could ask you the same about your own clothes. Suitors are supposed to dress up for these things. Not come as themselves.”

Offended, Alyssa arched back contemptuously. “Are you calling me a devil?”

“If the horns and pitchfork fit.” Drake retorted. He motioned with his glass across the room. “By the way, you see that blazing redhead who just stole your little friend away from Maxwell?” When Alyssa snapped her gaze protectively in that direction, he continued, “That’s Olivia. You might want to check in on … what’s her name again?”

“Riley ...” Her tone was resentful. He knows damn well what her name is.

“Whatever. Just trust me on this, if the two of you know what’s good for ya -- and I’m betting you don’t -- you’ll stay as far away from Olivia and the rest of these social-climbing fuckers as possible.” His mood suddenly shifted as he drained his drink, then slammed it on the bar top, motioning with his hand to the bartender for another.

Alyssa was quick to notice the tension in his jaw and the immense throb of protruding veins in his forearm as he nursed his drink. “What climbed up your ass and died? Why are you even here if you hate everyone so much?

He quickly snapped. “I’m here for Liam!”

“Well, I’m here for Riley!” The two of them glared at each other in a tense showdown that neither was willing to back down from. After a beat, Alyssa’s determination weakened somewhat; confrontations made her jittery.

And with him in particular.

Letting her shoulders slump, Alyssa let out a soft breath as she relaxed. “I’m trying to give her some space … but do I need to go check on Riley?” The question was asked sincerely.

Drake turned his head back, his vision crossing the vast expanse of the room and landing on a perturbed Riley in conversation with Olivia. He scowled, recognizing the expression impressed on her face all too well. “We’re outsiders, Alyssa. You. Me. Riley. That’s the only thing they’ll ever see. It’s the only way they’ll ever treat us.” He shifted to face Alyssa again. “Take that for what you will. If she were my friend … I would.”

_______

Riley shook her head emphatically. “There’s no way I’m supposed to kiss the king’s shoe. That’s weird, creepy, and-and- unsanitary!” She nodded toward a masked couple standing before the seated king who bowed, curtsied, and then exited to the left. “They didn’t kiss his shoe. I think you’re full of shit.”

“Riley, Riley, Riley.” The duchess shook her head with an exasperated tone. “Those people are well-established and highly-regarded members of the court … you’re not. And while I admit it’s a rather unorthodox Cordonian royal custom, it’s part of our tradition that the newest members humble themselves before the king in an act of deep respect and reverence. I’m actually astounded Maxwell never bothered to tell you.” She flipped back a thick curly-q strand of hair that hung over her shoulders. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

Riley hesitated. “I guess I’ll keep it in mind …?”

“Great!” Olivia wrapped a firm hand around Riley’s wrist and pulled her toward the throne where the king sat. “You’re so lucky that I was here to warn you! Otherwise, you’d have looked utterly ridiculous.”

“Wait! Where are we going? Riley demanded, her feet barely able to keep up with the brisk pace.

“To present you to King Constantine.”

“But I need to wait for my sponsor!” Riley protested. She struggled to break free, but the redhead’s clawlike grip was surprisingly strong.

“Every second counts, Riley. These women have all known Liam for years. The early bird gets the Crown.”

“But I --” Panicked, Riley scoured the room for the Beaumonts and found them standing near the hors d'oeuvres table embroiled in what appeared to be a heated discussion.

“What the fuck?” On the opposite side of the ballroom, Alyssa spotted Olivia hauling Riley across the floor. Before Drake had the chance to warn her this wasn’t good, an enraged Alyssa was already sliding down off the barstool, stampeding off in hot pursuit of finding out what this redheaded troll was doing with her best friend.

And for reasons he couldn’t fully understand, feeling frustrated beyond comprehension, Drake followed right on her heels.

Coming to a screeching halt before the raised dais, Olivia thrust Riley forward, who nearly tripped from the momentum into the bottom step at the sudden stop.

It took every ounce of restraint Riley had not to turn toward the woman who had forcibly dragged her across the room and to stick a pair of size-seven heels straight up her ass. She, however, liked the pretty, sparkly shoes she had on too much to ruin them … and wanted to end the evening outside of a hospital bed. “Asshole,” she muttered almost soundlessly.

“Your Majesty,” Olivia smirked. “I would like to present to you the suitor House Beaumont has chosen. Lady Riley.”

Riley gave her a cursory glare. It was the moment of truth. She plastered on her best smile for the King, who regarded her with a nod.

Just … just do it. “Your Majesty.” Riley dipped into a low curtsy and held it in place for several seconds before contemplating the validity of Olivia’s outlandish claim and swallowing hard. “Here goes nothing.”

Placing both palms on the plush red carpeting that laid at the feet of the King, she lowered herself slowly until her knees rested on the top step.

“What the hell is she doing?” Alyssa questioned as she desperately weaved around a sea of faces, dodging server trays and tables along the way. “And where the hell is Maxwell?”

“I don’t know ...” Drake answered, practically pushing her even more quickly through the crowd, “ … but you better move faster. There’s no damn telling what Olivia told her to do.”

Riley paused briefly, staring at the simple black shoes that almost resembled a shiny boot. She wanted to be kissing Liam right now, not his father’s old fricking foot. Worst vacation ever.

Lowering her head gradually toward Constantine’s shoes, she scrunched up her face and reluctantly puckered up.

Out of nowhere, a body with the vigor of a wild stallion in full sprint barrelled into her side, sending Riley hurling across the dais and causing her to land face-down on the marbled floor below.

"What is the meaning of this?" An enraged Constantine bolted up, his ire focused on Alyssa, hunkered down on all fours at his feet, striving to catch her breath.

Maxwell and Bertrand heard the commotion and came rushing to Riley’s side when they realized it was her sprawled out and jerking on the floor.

"I'm so sorry, Your Majesty," an apologetic Alyssa said as she reached up for the hand Drake was offering. The King's glare at her was nerve-wracking as he waited for an explanation -- until Drake stepped up in front of her, blocking her view of the incensed monarch. "I can explain."

"I hope you can, young lady." Constantine glowered, baffled as to why Drake Walker was still standing between them … and mirroring every movement she made. When she shifted, he shifted. When she moved her arm, he did the same. Was this some type of game?

“Uh … um.” Alyssa's mind raced with excuses. She couldn't very well tell him the truth and make Riley or herself look bad -- she was still a representative of Duchy Domvallier. There was only one thing she could think of to say as she whipped around Drake and pointed at him. "This man pushed me!"

Drake's body stiffened at her accusation. "The hell you talking about?"

She covered her eyes with a hand, pretending to sob. "I was on my way up here to pay my respects to you, sir, when this man ..." she paused to take in a fake stuttering breath, "... came out of nowhere and pushed me from behind. I tried to stop myself from running into anyone, but I couldn't. Too much momentum." Alyssa lowered her hand and stared at a wide-eyed Drake. "I’m just a small person, mister. Why would you do that? Why? What did I ever do to hurt you?"

"I never --"

"Drake?" The King eyed him sternly. "Is this true? Did you push this young woman?"

Drake’s defensive stance was no match for Alyssa’s pleading eyes, begging him to save her from this. “Please,” she mouthed.

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “I … I’m sorry, Sir. Lady Alyssa’s extremely long dress was dragging the floor and I stepped on it. When I lifted my foot off, she ... I don’t know … flung forward. I tried to grab her before she went flying, but she got away, and that must be why she thought I pushed her.” Drake lowered his gaze to Alyssa. “You really shouldn’t shop in the adult section, miss.”

“Is it possible you were mistaken, Lady ... Alyssa?”

She nodded. “Yes, that is surely possible,” she agreed in a rehearsed-sounding tone. “It’s all coming back to me now.”

“Well, then.” Constantine's contented glance drifted to Drake. “It’s good to know you didn’t push an innocent suitor on purpose, Drake. But just know this … I’ll be watching you.”

“Looking forward to it, sir. Thank you, sir.” Drake quickly bowed his head as Constantine returned to his seat to greet the next guest. He grabbed Alyssa’s elbow and rushed her off to the side of the dais.

-----------

Maxwell knelt beside a disheveled Riley, helping her rise to her feet and dusting her off.

“Lady Riley,” a scowling Bertrand glared, “what on earth is the meaning of this? The glory of House Beaumont is on the line tonight, and you’ve already made your first blunder. I told you, Maxwell, this was a mistake.”

Slightly dazed, Riley stumbled while massaging a sore wrist. Inclining her head so she could see him under the halo that drooped over her eyes, she retorted, “I was shoved, Berturd. It’s not like I did this on purpose. And thank you for your concern; I’m fine, by the way.”

“Shoved? By whom?” The three of them turned to see Alyssa and Drake scampering off to a corner. “It was Domvallier’s suitor?” Bertrand asked incredulously. “This is preposterous! It’s beneath Lord Rashad’s character to have his suitor and Drake Walker sabotage ours. I will have to go over there and put an end to this travesty at once.”

“NO!” Riley and Maxwell barked.

"Bertrand. Why don't you let Riley and I handle them while you play damage control with the King? Unless ..." he smirked. " You want me to smooth things over with His Majesty? I have a lot to say about how Twinkle Toes just SAILED through the air at warp speed --"

"Dear God, no, Maxwell! There will be no need for your … input. But, you two, get results from Drake and that suitor. No funny business," he warned.

The two of them nodded in understanding. As soon as Bertrand turned his back and marched away, they both gave a knowing glance to the other before rushing over to Drake and Alyssa, who had just made it to a far corner of the ballroom,

Alyssa yanked her elbow away from his vice-like grasp. “I believe we’re out of the clear; you can let go of me now.”

“Listen. I have to tell you something, ‘cause you need to know it ... “ Drake swallowed thickly, his rounded eyes focused squarely on the woman who’d just thrown him under the bus to King Constantine. He spoke as if he had something caught in his throat, “You--your-- uh -- ”

“And who made these damn shoes, anyway?” Alyssa complained as she hiked up the lower part of her dress and stepped out of her heels. Her already short stature lowered several inches. “They clearly hate short women and feet. Seriously, who thought walking around like a newborn calf was sexy?”

“Alyssa,” Drake tried again to speak through a strained voice, “You need to listen --”

“Hey!” Riley interrupted as she and Maxwell stepped up to them. “Why’d you push me off that stage thingy? And OH MY GOD, ALYSSA! YOUR --” Maxwell slapped a hand over Riley’s mouth, knowing exactly what her big mouth was getting ready to loudly announce.

Her frantic muffled words continued to blabber through his tightly clasped hand.

Alyssa gave him a confused look. “Maxwell, what are you doing?”

“Just stopping her before she told everyone within earshot ...” he paused fleetingly, lowering his gaze from the muddled expression on her face to her chest. “Your bosoms … well, they have emerged.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell you before,” a flustered Drake said as Alyssa let out a gasp and looked down. “You’ve been ... exposed … since --” He was quickly cut off again by her tiny wail as she fixed herself and dashed out of the ballroom, mortified, her arms crossed over her chest.

--------------------

Riley tapped lightly on the women’s restroom door. “Lyss? You okay in there?”

“No!” Her pouty voice rang back. “I’m the laughingstock of this entire court.”

Maxwell chuckled, hollering back. “You don’t have to worry about that, Lady Alyssa. I’ve already got that title covered in spades.”

“You two need to get back to the ball,” Drake said gruffly, referring to the girls. “Liam will be arriving any minute.”

“You’re right. There are probably five people in there who still haven’t gotten an up close shot of my breasts.” Alyssa swung the door open, bitterly hitching up the front of her dress as she stepped out, and glared up at Drake as she walked by. “And you let me walk around like that!”

“I did not!” He flushed a deep, dark red. “I told you, that’s why I was standing in front of you, so no one would see … ugh, fuck it. Just -- let’s go, okay?”

A remorseful Riley hugged Alyssa. “I’m so sorry my dumb ass was what caused this to happen to you. Thank you for making sure I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

Alyssa squeezed tighter. “It was way better that it happened to me than you. We can definitely have a good laugh over this by the time I’m, like, 150.” When they let go of one another, she smiled at her friend. “Come on, we have a ball to get back to. And you have a prince to dazzle.”

“Oh, you guys go on ahead. I need a minute to straighten up.”

Drake, Alyssa, and Maxwell headed back inside while Riley spent a few minutes in the bathroom wiping away the dust off her dress and getting her hair back in order as best as she could. Plus, she just needed a moment to herself; it was the first time since she woke up that morning that someone wasn’t hovering over her shoulder or trying to impress someone. There also were some major jitters happening knowing the Prince was arriving at any second.

Stepping out a few minutes later, Riley headed back down the hallway, hopeful she still appeared as presentable as when she arrived earlier.

Dotted along the walls that trailed back to the ballroom were portraits and artwork of kings and queens. Judging by the large periwigs, justaucorps, and stockings over breeches depicted, obviously they were quite old. One particular painting caught her attention enough to halt her steps before she plastered on a naughty grin.

“Ohhhh, what do we have here?” Riley snickered, leaning in closer to get a better glimpse. “I see London, I see France, I see a very hung King without his pants.” She fanned a hand in front of her face and spoke as if she were Scarlett O’Hara herself. “My, my, my, Fabian, I haven’t seen a lot of those, but I do declare, you put all the Yanks I’ve been with to shame. I’d be remiss to not ask if you were generous enough to pass on certain sizable traits, say to … Oh, I don’t know, the current Crown Prince?”

“Frankly, my dear … I don’t think he gave a damn,” a deep voice quipped over her shoulder.

Riley spun around, her body crashing into the portrait and causing it to rattle against the wall and lean heavily. Her face burned red-hot as soon as she heard his voice, even though every ounce of blood in her body seemed to rush to her wobbly feet. Liam reached out, grasping hold of her arms to brace her as she stared back, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, at his half-masked face, smiling warmly. “L-L-Li --”

“My sincerest apologies if I startled you, my lady. Are you okay?”

Her throat was dry, and surely no one in all history had ever been as embarrassed as she was at that moment, but she managed to answer feebly, “I think … I pissed my pants.” They both looked down at the floor simultaneously, relief washing over them that there were no puddles. Riley closed her eyes and let out a heavy breath. “Oh, thank God.”

Liam chuckled, his twinkling blue eyes glued to her flustered face. “You’re just as beautiful as you were that night in New York, Riley Brooks.”

“Wait … you know that it’s me? Are you surprised? Are you upset? Do you think I’m some creepy stalker now? I swear I’ve never even touched a weapon.”

“Really? What happened to your bag of Chinese throwing stars?” Liam teased lightheartedly. Riley tilted her head in confusion. “You remember, the ones you were going to throw at me in the alley outside of your bar --”

“Oh. Yes. Right,” she laughed awkwardly as the memory came to her. “Yeah, I may have embellished the truth there a bit. Twenty-pound hams seem to be more my weapon of choice.” Riley hung her head. Why the hell did I just tell him that? When Bastien cleared his throat and gave Liam a pointed look, Riley knew their time was short. “I know you have to go, but I just need to know something: How did you know I was here? Maxwell tried to get in touch with you and never heard back. I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me showing up here.”

“I’ve been quite busy since leaving New York with preparations for the social season and the Masquerade kicking off this evening. But it was Drake who came pounding on my door this morning to fill me in. You can imagine my surprise when he told me that you were here, and, I quote, ‘brought her small aggressive friend with her as guard dog.’”

Riley smirked with a shrug. “Can ya blame a girl? I came to win. Besides, I really like you, Liam.”

He smiled. “I really like you too, Riley. But this isn’t New York. As much as I wish we could just pick up where we left off two nights ago, this entire series of events is set up not just to give me time with my potential matches, but also to give my parents, the Council, and the people of Cordonia time to get to know the future queen. From now on, everyone will be watching you and ... Lady Alyssa.” Liam paused to chuckle and shake his head in amusement. “You actually got your friend to pose as a fake suitor and somehow convinced an honorable and highly dignified member of the court to sponsor her?”

“Yeaaaah, I still don’t know how the hell I did that. I should get extra points for my manipulation skills”

Liam laughed. "I believe you mean, negotiation skills."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, those too."

Already well past the time to make his grand entrance, Bastien approached Liam to give the final warning. Liam acknowledged him and turned back to Riley. “I hope I’ll see you again later tonight, if you’ll save a dance for me. But until then …” He pressed her willing body against the wall, tracing the back of his forefinger along her velvety cheek. “ … just know how very, very, happy I am to have you here, Riley.” His lips were fire and ice when he leaned down to meet her equally fevered ones in a lingering kiss. And she melted right into him.

With that, Liam was whisked away by the head guard and made his way into the ballroom. As a panting Riley brushed her fingertips over the tingling in her bottom lip, she felt so many things all at once: relief that he was happy she was there and already knew everything regarding Alyssa, and that same exhilarating bliss that swept her off her feet two days ago when they shared their time together. But he was abundantly clear, this wasn’t New York anymore, and he still had a duty and obligation to Cordonia regardless of his apparent feelings for her.

Riley let a puff of air and pushed her backside off the wall to return inside. Just as she did this, the crooked frame bearing the likeness of the late King Fabian she admired earlier fell from its hook and crashed to the floor, causing the ancient glass to shatter beside her. With her head shrunken into her shoulders, Riley slowly peeked out one eye and saw the damage. Glancing down one end of the hall to the other to see if anyone saw her, she glanced down at the shards and still fully intact artwork. Normally she would have hightailed it out of there, but she couldn’t help herself from giving her destruction parting words.

“I guess you’re not … hung anymore.”

Then she bolted the hell out of there.

--------------

Fearless tags: @dcbbw @ao719 @texaskitten30 @janezillow @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @amandablink @choiceskatie @annekebbphotography @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @mom2000aggie @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @pink-diamond13 @tinkie1973 @queenrileyrose @zaffrenotes @no-one-u-know @sammie0220 @shanzay44 @yourmajesty09 @bitchloveskcbaseball @kat-tia801 @openheart12 @drakeandkatherine @marshmallowsandfire @masterofbluff @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @msjr0119 @hopelessromanticmonie @sanchita012 @gabesmommie1130 @charlotteg234 @jessiembruno @debramcg1106 @neotericthemis @iaminlovewithtrr @sweetest-marbear @darley1101 @choicesstan650 @shewillreadyou @emkay512 @txemrn @lucy-268 @axwalker @busywoman

#fearless #drake x mc #liam x mc #drake walker #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #liam x riley #drake x alyssa

142 notes · View notes

yuulina-vre · 3 years

Text

Protecting health

Fauna’s save heaven

Summary: Y/N wants watermelon! Also, she hates that Tony’s drinking so much coffee today,

Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Reader

Wordcount: 3091 words

Warnings: none

Masterlist

Y/N sits on Steve’s lap, leaned against his chest. His hands run up and down on her back while he’s totally engrossed in the movie playing on the TV. Y/N has seen it several times by now but she likes how Steve finds it exciting and gasps at each new turn the story takes. Sadly, now that she’s not engrossed in the movie, she realizes how hot it actually is. Tony, once again, broke the ac in the living quarters while trying to modify it, and that on a day where the heat is peaking its highest. Though, she too comfortable to move from Steve’s embrace and he doesn’t seem to mind her sweating all over him. To distract herself she leans her head a little on his shoulder, starts drawing patterns on his chest, and kisses his shoulder and a little of his neck. At first, Steve does nothing, as if he doesn’t even notice that she’s doing it but then he tenses a little, his hands stilling their movement. He looks at her with wide eyes but she continues her little kisses with a small grin, kissing up his neck to his jaw. “Y/N.” His voice is a dangerous low and Y/N knows, that if she continues and focuses her hands more on his nipple then she will be packed tightly and carried away to the bedroom. For a second it sounds tempting but then again, she’s reminded of how hot it actually is and the thought of being bodily active is just too much. So, she presses a last lingering kiss to his lips, squeezes his shoulder once, and stands up. “ Alright. It’s too hot to continue. I’m going to raid the fridge.”

“Okay.” Steve smiles sweetly at her though, he’s not taking his hands from her hips. He holds on and leans up to steal another kiss from her. Y/N, not one to deny him, smiles and leans down, pecking him on the lips only to quickly weasel out of his grip and skipping into the kitchen area. She sees Steve’s pout as she turns for a second to look at him but then turns her attention back to the fridge. She wants something cool to drink or something to eat. The best would be if she finds some strawberries to go with some vanilla ice cream. She walks right through the area, straight to the fridge, and rips the door open. Cool air hits her skin and brings immediate relief. She sighs and closes her eyes, task forgotten for the moment and only bathing in the cooling air that’s cooling the sweaty skin. “Are you going to take something out of it or are you just standing there, wasting energy?”

“Oh my God!” She almost shouts, her hand flying up to her heart, feeling the fast beating against her ribcage. “No, Just Tony.” She swirls around, immediately landing on the engineer that’s sitting on the counter island nursing a mug of steaming coffee. She frowns instantly at the hot drink. “Tony! It’s a million degrees outside. How can you drink coffee!?”

“It’s not that hot.”

“Not that… Where you even outside for a second today?”

“Dear God, no. I’m not crazy. So, are you just standing there?” He points with his mug at her and the fridge, eyebrows raise. “I- no, I was looking for something cool to eat or drink.”

“Hmm, well you won’t find it by just standing there.” She grins at her, setting the mug down and popping something in his mouth. Y/N squints at him, shutting the door behind her, and walks up to him. “What exactly are you eating there?”

“Watermelon Pepper brought me.”

“Oh.” Y/N looks surprised at him, slowly walking up until she can settle right next to him. “Why did we not get any?”

“Maybe because she married me and not you.” He pops another squeak in his mouth with a grin. Y/N settles on a pout but slides in next to him on a stool. “So, you care to share?” She pouts deeply at him, hoping that he actually starts sharing with her. It's just so hot and she isn’t opposed to being a little childish to get to her own relief. “Nope, it’s all mine.”

“Tony… Please. It’s so hot in here.” Her pout deepens and she leans a little over to rest her head on his shoulder but Tony is having none of it. He leans a little away with a mean grin. “Exactly, and that’s why this is all mine and you don’t get any. And I don’t need you sweating all over me. Plus, you could just go to the pool to cool down, you know.”

“Noo…” She actually whines flopping her head on the counter, arms stitched in front of her to get as much skin cooled on the surface as she can. “Nat and clint are down there with bucky and Sam. They probably started a water fight by now. I don’t want to get wet on their behalf.” Tony only snorts, popping yet another piece of melon in his mouth. “Tony, come on, don’t be mean.” She looks up at him, still pouting but now even angling her head just right so that she looks even more pitying than normal. And it works. She sees Tony’s stance falter a little bit, the thought about sharing reaching his mind, clearly to see in his darting eyes. “Nope.” With a deep sigh, Y/N stands up. “Fine, Then I’m going to suffer further, but don’t expect me to listen to your ramblings for the next week.” Childish as she is she stretches out her tongue at him and marches out f the kitchen. So, she doesn’t intend to actually ignore him or leave her task for relief. She has already formed another task in her mind. She quickly slips out of the common room into the hall, from there she slips into the closest restroom and gets out of her clothes. In a matter of thirty seconds, she concentrates and changes into a small, yellow canary. Satisfied with herself she chirps and eyes her clothes. Normally one of her boys follows her to pack them away for later but for now, she guesses that they can stay here. The others will know that she has changed. They probably got used to finding her clothes lying around in the whole compound. Y/N hopes a little around to get a feeling for the animal and the small aches out of her body, she ruffles her feathers and stretches her wings until she’s ready to slip back out of the restroom. In two swift jumps, she catapults herself in the air. Enjoying the feeling of wind rushing past her, cooling her smaller body down she flies some circles ins the common room, even once or twice flaying around Steve’s head which makes him snort but sigh in relief at the air she’s whipping at him. Just like that then she flies into the kitchen again. Tony’s still sitting at the counter, nursing his mug of coffee that suspiciously full again. The melons still sitting in front of him, the bowl still half-filled. She flies two circles around him, trying to decide what to do. She could just try her eagle tactic. Setting herself into a nosedive, gripping a melon and rushing away with it but as a canary, she can’t fly up as quickly with the weight so she might lang in the bowl and get stuck. She could try to land in front of Tony, picking at the melon he’s picking up but that won’t give her the release she wants. Or she could sit on his shoulder and chirp at him as long as it takes for him to give up and share one or two squares with her. That usually is effective. He might grumble about it but she knows that he secretly likes sharing with her like that. Especially when she’s small likes this and two squares are enough to get her sated. So, she settles for the third option. She flies up to him and lands on his right shoulder, quickly disheveling his hair with her beak, and then, after he noticed her, she starts chirping and singing and foreign song to him. She can see his wince at the loud high-pitched sounds and she can clearly see his resolve crumbling with each note she loudly pronounces.

“Okay!” He lifts his hands in defeat, gently gripping her. “Okay. Quieten down, yeah?” He sets her down o the counter, as gentle as he can, and sighs. “You won. Damn, I can’t resist you, huh?” Y/N chirps again, silently this time, and hops over to the bowl. She hammers her beak a few times against it, making some plonk sounds with it. “Yeah, yeah, don’t stress. But just two!” With some scowling and grumbling he takes one of the squares out of it and places it right in front of her. Y/N jumps around in excitement and quickly starts picking at the fruit flesh. “Don’t get your feathers all smudged with it. Steve will have my head if he has to clean you up later.” He sighs again as if he’s talking to a child that’s wearing its best clothes. Y/N would roll her eyes if she could. She won’t get dirty and if she actually does then all he has to do is to give her a bowl with clean water and she’s cleaning herself up. Just like that. She picks a few times more on her square, chirping in pleasure and hopping around to get the best angles. In a few minutes, she has devoured everything. She is almost sated but not quiets, though, she’s not sure if she could manage a whole new square. “Finished?” She looks up at Tony who’s, again, nipping on his cup. Y/N decides to be finished and chirps, swinging herself up in the air to sit back on his shoulder. The first task for her is really finished and now she has settled on another one.

Get Tony to stop drinking coffee!

She chirps a few times more silently than before to not screech into his ear. Tony walks past Steve on the couch, who is passed out while the credits roll around. Tony continues to walk through the halls. Now and then Y/N climbs around on him, from one shoulder to the other and back. Even swinging up in the air once or twice at land on his head. The last time she swings herself in the air she flies by more than a few people only to fly back to him and land the last time on his head. There she settles down sorting his hair a few times, nibbling on it and placing it just how she likes it to calmly lie on it and let him carry her. She can clearly pinpoint the moment he walks into his lap because the cool air and AC are heavenly. She might let about a sighed chirp but she’s not really sure. Tony walks to settle on his chair at the table, FRIDAY opening the recent file he had worked on. Y/N studies the file for a moment but doesn’t understand anything so she loses interest fast. What catches her gaze then is the arrangement of three coffee cups and his travel cup on the desk, all looking empty but the coffee machine in the background is already grumbling and sputtering to a start to fill them up again. The cup Tony had set down just now is still almost full and now she has to protect it. No engineer finger shall grab it in the next two hours! Sitting by it is lame though. She decided to hop around the table and when Tony even dares to stretch his hand out for the cup she will run back and pick at his fingers with fierce evil to protect it. She’s just on the other end of the table as Tony actually starts gripping his cup. With angry screeches, she runs back as fast as she can but she’s a little too late. Tony already lifted his cup up and only snort at her antics. “What’s up with you?” She chirps and taps her beak on the table to tell him to set the cup back down, though, Tony doesn’t seem to understand. He takes a gulp of coffee and only then sets it back down. Y/N quickly decides to change her strategy and runs around the cup in a circle. In her head she starts chanting coffee over and over, almost feeling like she had drunk more than two cups of it that day. It’s promising though. The next time Tony actually starts gripping for the cup she’s right there and picks at his finger. “Ow! What the hell, Y/N!” She chirps angrily at him hoping side to side in front of the coffee cup so he won’t pick it up. “Come on, get away from that.” He tries to grab the cup another time but she just picks at his finger again. “Y/N! I need my coffee!” She shakes her head no. He might get a heart attack if he continues drinking too much coffee so she’s sitting right here to protect his health.

The same thing happens a few more times until tony is actually a little frustrated. Bruce joined Tony in the lap a few minutes ago and each time Y/N starts attacking the older man he starts chuckling. “Okay fine. What the hell do you want.”

“I think she wants you to stop drinking coffee for a while.” Bruce pipes up from his seat on the other side of the room. Y/N chirps loudly to confirm it, even going as far as to ruffle her feathers. “But why? I like coffee and I can work best with it. The energy drinks are too sweet by now and won’t do anything anymore.” Y/N really, really wishes she could roll her eyes. Does he not get it? Bruce seems to think the same because he actually stands up from his spot to walk over. “Jesus, Tony. How much coffee did you have?”

“Eh… I don’t know.” Tony shrugs but he eyes the cups and travel mug on his table for a moment. Probably realizing how much he actually had. “Tony, that’s not healthy! You’ll give yourself a heart attack.” Bruce actually scolds and Y/N chirps in agreement. Tony doesn’t have the decency to look like he cares though he takes the cup of water Bruce passes him a moment later.

Y/N watches him carefully for the next twenty minutes. Tony sips his water, complains about the lack of caffeine but otherwise doesn’t reach for his coffee maker. He rambles on to Bruce and her until Y/N is actually tired of it. There’s just so much Tony you can take for the day and she feels like she had her fair share of it. In hopes that he will fix the AC in the next few hours, she gets up from her spot she had nestled herself in, ruffles her feathers, and fluffs them up for a second before she hops over to Tony’s hands. She gently picks against it twice for him to notice her. “Hey. What’s up?” She chirps and flaps her wings twice, her codeword for him to open the door and let bring her to wherever Steve or Bucky is. “Already enough of me?” A series of chirps and one fluffing up later he laughs, actually promises to fix the AC, and lets her out. She flies down the halls and, to Steve’s horror, flies closely past people she passes to scare them. IT’s one of the things that bring her joy and it’s not like most people down her don’t know who she is. They mostly grumble but some of them secretly like it. From time to time, she finds small gifts like little food bowls or water baths in a secluded corner. She likes it.FRIDAY opens the door the to elevator for her and gets her straight up to the common room. She thinks about changing in the restroom again, her clothes are probably still there, though, she likes it when her men hold her in their hand likes she’s made from porcelain. Their fingers rubbing gently over her head and back, smoothing her feathers down with such careful movements. So, she flies past the restroom, right into the common room, and to the couch. Steve and bucky both sit on one, nestled together. She can see that Bucky’s gripping Steve’s hand, carefully running his metal finger over his skin. Nat, Wanda, and Clint all sit on another one, each of them concentrating on their own stuff. Y/N flies past Bucky’s ear, as close as she dares with a loud screech, hoping to startle him but the man, like the monster he is, doesn’t even let his heartbeat pick up. Steve on the other hand startles so bad he chokes on his own spit or air and is pushed into a mean-sounding coughing fit. Worried that he actually doesn’t get any air she quickly makes a turn and flies to him, landing rather gracefully on his lap, and lets out a series of worried sounds while Bucky claps him amused on the back. “Hey, doll. Finished harassing Tony?” She looks at Buck and ruffles her feathers. Of course, she is, she got his coffee consume down about ten cups today. That’s a hard win. She quickly turns back to Steve who’s finished coughing and wipes the tears from his eyes, but he’s grinning so Y/N isn’t that worried anymore. As gently as the blonde can he lifts her up with both his hands, creating a sort of bowl where Y/N can shift around in until she’s comfortable enough to rest. His thumbs lightly graze her sides. “I like when you’re so small.” His smile deepens and Y/N knows why. He once told her that, if she’s a delicate animal, that he feels like he has more control over his powers science he has to be as careful as he can to not hurt her. It reminds him somewhat of his own childhood. So, she does him the favor now and then when he asks her to shift. For now, she’s content in grip soft grip with his thumbs stroking her and Bucky softly running a finger over her head. She could get used to that.

#Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #steve x bucky x reader #steve x bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x steve #Yuulina writes #Fauna's save heaven #steve x reader

52 notes · View notes

thesolotomyhan · 4 years

Text

Narcos México: Dating them would include: (2/7)

Alright! I just want to say really quick, thank you for the support and love from all of you corazones de melon. Sorry this took so long but part 2 of the head cannons is here! Please don’t be mad at me😅 and I hope you enjoy this one as well! 💕

Warnings: NSFW!

I’m already sobbing, I’m so soft for my Arellano Boys ok

GOD, Benjamin is such a romantic King

You’ve made him weak in the knees ever since he first laid eyes on you

You are the reason he keeps pushing everyday and the reason he wants to be so successful

No quiere que te haga falta nada en la vida ,,, he wants to be the one you lean on and vice versa,, I’m crying 🥺

LOOK, Benjamin’s goal with you is to just make you happy and build a family with you because tu eres el amor de su vida

He’s so stupidly in love with you it’s heart-wrenching,,

I just-,,, he has the biggest heart eyes for you, you’re doing literally anything and he’s falling in love with you all over again

For Benjamin, family comes first, we’ve seen that, so he HAS to know what you’re doing, where you're going, when your coming back, call him to know you got there safely,,, Every single day

He’s a Protective King ™ , sue me

GOD, do not get me started on how he would get when your pregnant-

He will loose his fucking mind if you don’t tell him where your going today

He can’t help but panic if he has no clue where your at, because in his defense, Tijuana is dangerous

It’s obviously no secret that your his soft spot, especially with that look he gives you when you walk into the room as if you just hung the stars

He separates his business work with your private lives because he doesn’t really want you to be so close with the dangerous business, he wouldn’t like having that weight on your shoulders

I can’t,,, I don’t know why but,, look, you want to take care of this man so imagine taking him lonche everyday🥺

Like, imagine coming into his office with his container of lonche and he’s just softly smiling at you as he makes room for you to sit on his lap

He’s always scolding you though, for coming to visit him but how is he going to deny you the food you made for him-

And Even though he doesn’t like to show as much PDA in front of his workers, (because he believes it’s more intimate in privacy,) he still can’t help himself but give in to you

Cue forehead kisses and giving you a loving smile when you come and visit him at the warehouse

We’ve also seen how Benjamin can stress tf out when business doesn’t move fast and smoothly

And everyone in the family knows that your the only one to clear his mind and make him smile, make him relax

Like Whenever Benjamin is on the verge of bursting a blood vessel, Enedina is already calling you a car to get you there ASAP

Like, that time the Sinaloans trashed his supply truck with the pig and he’s swearing about “putos sinaloenses”

Just arriving at the right moment and going up to him and dragging him away as you grab his cheeks and making him focus on just you to calm him down as you play with the ends of his hair, ugh 🥺

Everybody swears your a present sent from god himself,, like sighs of relief are being let out when you arrive

Anyways, before I get too carried away-

He’s not a big fan of taking you to fancy restaurants and such

He believes that the gestures of simple love is the way to go, he doesn’t think giving you the extravagant gifts can compare and show how much he loves you

Don’t get me wrong though, he’ll buy you something really nice and heartfelt when your both celebrating something like an anniversary or something

But he prefers a special homemade dinner in the privacy of your own home, es mucho mas especial

But He shows his love physically, like every morning and night he tells you how much he loves you

“No soy nada sin ti, mi amor” uggh I can’t-

It is his TOP priority to always give you a good night and good morning kiss on your lips , he can’t keep away from your soft lips on his-

He also needs to just be touching you whenever you're near, it makes him feel secure that your safe right next to him

He’ll have his arm around your waist or your arms linked as he leads you around the place

You cannot tell me that y’all wouldn’t cuddle when you sleep, like it’s so comfortable for you because your sleeping on his chest, but for him it’s a sense of security because he’s keeping you safe while you sleep🥺

One of his favorite parts of the day is coming home to you, it’s the time where he can let go of himself and just. b r e a t h e

This man will never admit it out loud but he feels so damn proud of himself whenever he accomplishes something, like the time he convinced Miguel to input more coke through his plaza and your just so proud of him for being able to do that

Ya’ know you’re loving up on him and constantly praising him, his heart just fucking soars

Ooohhh, being best friends with Enedina because she just fucking adores how with just one look from you, Benjamin is following you like a lost puppy

I can just see how she’ll want to take you out for a girls day and leaving behind a grumpy and pouty Benjamin,, she’s definitely throwing that shady, smugly smile at him

Ah shit, I can imagine as he’s watching you both leave, Ramon or Francisco’s ass is walking up behind Mín and just smugly saying

“Pues, ya embarazala, cabrón, para que tienes a alguien que te destrae”

The LOOK Benjamin throws because the fucking Audacity

My heart hurts,, I just know Benjamin would be one to hug you from behind, and kiss your neck as he murmurs just how much he fucking adores and loves you

Can you just imagine, the way he would look at you in the morning as your putting on his shirt to go make breakfast, I’m crying

DomesticSoft Benjamin makes me ugly sob

Your relationship is so full of soft love, it’s just- chefs kiss👌

NSFW:

Again, I’m sobbing,, sex for Benjamin is something he will take seriously, he’s only comfortable with what your comfortable with

The KING of the softest but earth shattering sex

Benjamin is taking his time undressing you, he’s not one to rush into things even though he’s desperate to be inside of you

He’s definitely kissing newly exposed skin every time he takes an article of clothes off of you

Once he’s level with you, in between your thighs, your already throwing your head back before he’s even touching you, like you already know how he’s going to make you feel

this man loves eating you out while your pulling and running your fingers through his hair

He’s humming into your core and looking at how your losing your mind, he gets drunk off that feeling

Like he’s also on the verge of coming right then and there just by the way your saying his name

Every time you both have sex, he HAS to make you cum at least twice with his mouth, I’m sorry I don’t make the rules

He’s the one that while your coming down from your high, he’ll kiss trails up your stomach, to your neck, and finally your lips

Benjamin is one to grab hold of your hand with your fingers intertwined and rest them near your head as he pushes into you

GOD, he rests his forehead on yours as you both let out breathy moans and stare into each other - wow

“Mirate, mi hermosa mujer, te ves tan bella aquí en nuestra cama, solo para mi”

Like I said, EYE CONTACT is a must,

If you even try to close your eyes from how good he’s making you feel, he’s gently grabbing your face and in a demanding husky voice he’s saying

“Mirame” -wow👀

he lives for seeing how you react to his movements, ok

One of Benjamin’s favorite positions is you writhing below him with one of his hands gripping your thigh around his hip while the other hand is either, 1) gripping your hand or 2) grasping the sheet near your head

He loves the sight of you being on top of him as well, like he’s sitting up, gripping both of your hips as his thumb stimulates your clit as your trying to bounce to meet his thrusts

Your biting your lip as your nails are digging into his shoulders, just so many emotions are being thrown around the two of you-

Or he’s laying completely on his back while you’re bouncing on top of him, scratching down his chest-

What. A. View.

Look, Benjamin needs to know he’s actually making you feel good🥺, so he’s pulling out all the tricks when you try to stifle your mewls,

it’s music to his ears when he hears you let out the noises that he’s making you feel

He loves watching how your body literally shakes when he brings you to your orgasms, mi diosa, is all he thinks about as he intensely watches you

I can see that’s there’s times where you come to drop off his lonche, like any innocent day as you take your place on his lap,,

And you’re trying to tell him this crazy scene you saw on your way to his office but all he responds with are hums that he’s listening to you as his hand travels in between your thighs and he’s kissing down your neck and shoulders

Like, look at his fucking fingers...

Your squirming because like, the blinds to his office aren’t even fucking closed but by the looks of it, Benjamin isn’t one bit worried

“Amor, sigue diciéndome lo que viste”

As he’s pushing a finger into you,

Ok, wow,

this just leads to sneaky office desk sex, where you’re both trying your best to stay quiet because Benjamin was being needy and couldn’t keep it in until he was home

But lemme tell ya, when parties are being thrown at Roxanne, this man is making you scream in his office because

“Nadie nos escucha, amor”

He just gets a fucking hard on imagining you on his desk, with your legs spread, chanting his name- ok

But so far, you’ve both done a surprisingly good job of no one finding out

*Stress Relieving Blowjobs*

I can see this happening when he comes home fuming and cussing about some bs his workers pulled

or at his office where he would hole himself up in, like the grumpy Mín we know

All I know is that your just walking up to him where he’s seated and giving him a shoulder rub as you move to stand in front of him

You slowly get down to your knees as you capture his fiery attention,

“Relájate, mi amor, solo dame tu atención”

While you're pulling his cock out and giving him the best blow of his life

Like what a truly beautiful sight, his head is thrown back as he lets out low grunts

He definitely got teased once by Enedina once you left him on cloud 9 in his office after his temper tantrum, she’s just all like,

“Qué? Necesitabas que tu esposa viniera a chuparte para que puedas volver a funcionar?”

Again, with the annoyed look he throws her

You cannot tell me otherwise that this man will pepper your face in kisses post sex, praising how good you were and how much he loves you

He will caress your back as you fall asleep on his chest and he just closes his eyes as he breathes in your scent because, wow, he’s that King 👑

You are his queen, so you best believe he’s going to take care of you and make your love as passionate as he can

#narcos mexico imagines #narcos mexico imagine #narcos imagine #benjamin arellano felix #benjamin arellano felix x reader #narcos mexico #narcos: mexico #narcos

222 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #451

“taste the waste of their god’s grace & spit your hate upon your young”

Who are you subscribed to on YouTube? A shitload of people. Do you like to go to the farmer's market? Yeah, sure. What will (or was) the color of your wedding dress be? Probably black. What's your favorite melon? I don't really like melons, actually. What was the name of the last pet of yours that died? Teddy. :( When was the last time you wished the day would just get over with? Literally every day. Seriously. It's funny, I dread fighting to sleep at night, but I also just want it to be time to sleep so time will pass. My life is just so fucking boring that I just... wait for something exciting to happen. Name one person you've never had a fight with: Tez. What are you currently listening to? "Sex Metal Barbie" by In This Moment. What would you rather have: cat or dog? I prefer cats. Who is your least favorite person in real life? Probably my sister's husband. Do you ever watch anybody's live stream of... anything, really? I'll sometimes watch live let's plays. Does your house have security cameras? No. If you go grey as you age, would you dye your hair or let it be? I'll be dyeing it. What was the last establishment you stopped going to due to bad service? What happened? I'm not sure. What soundtrack do you listen to the most? Silent Hill 2's, definitely. Was there a family secret you weren’t told about until you were an adult? I don't know if it's really a secret, but I didn't know until this year that my dad did some really dangerous drugs before us kids were born. Do you have an opinion most people you meet seem to disagree with you? Yes. What’s something you like to have many options to choose from? Food, ha ha. Feels great to have a full kitchen after a grocery trip. What’s the strangest decorative object you own? Nothing "strange" to me. What’s a thing you couldn’t imagine doing with your life right now? One biggie is having a baby. I just... could not imagine. My life would plummet. What’s been your proudest moment? Graduating in the top percentile in my high school graduating class. What’s the filthiest non-pornographic movie you’ve seen? Omfg, Sausage Party. That movie was so gross. Do you know anyone who doesn't seem to be fond of animals? Thankfully, no. I don't even think I could befriend someone who doesn't like animals. Are you planning any outings or trips anytime soon? Whereabouts? No. Do you know anyone who has a phobia of a certain animal? Yeah, like me with whale sharks. Is there a particular brand of technology/electronics that you prefer? Not really, no. Is there a singer whose voice gives you goosebumps/chills? Amy Lee's. And is there a singer whose voice you simply can't stand? Yeah, such as Bob Dylan. Are there any authors that are particularly dominant on your bookshelf? Tui T. Sutherland, but only because I read their series Wings of Fire. Have you seen any photographs or videos that made you smile today? I'm sure on Facebook at some point. Which item in your fridge are you most looking forward to consuming? Does the freezer count? If so, this Healthy Choice grilled chicken pesto bowl I have in there. I am like addicted to them. Has anyone you know got into a new relationship lately? I don't know. If you menstruate, do you experience much PMS prior to it? It varies month-to-month. Have you ever had a tattoo covered up or added to? I had my Markiplier tattoo essentially redone by a better artist. I also plan on getting my "ohana" tat covered, as well as my "how rare and beautiful it is to even exist" one (I adore the quote, but it's not an original design, which I don't like having anymore), and I want to move and redesign my "perfectly flawed" one because I want a bigger tattoo in its location. Can you remember the last time you had a sudden change of mind? Yeah; I'm pretty sure I like-like my friend Girt now, something I was never entirely sure about. When was the last time you did something on a whim? *shrug* Were you raised by both of your parents? If not, then who raised you? Well, I guess both, but Dad didn't do a lot of the teaching part about life and stuff. Have you ever began a relationship with someone you knew for less than a week? No. Has one of your friends ever tried to ‘hook you up?’ Yes. Colleen tried that with me and Girt and only succeeded in making us very uncomfortable. She said something I wanted to slap her for that I won't repeat. What is your card game of choice? Magic: The Gathering. What is your favourite books series? I think my favorite series of all time was the Shiloh trilogy. I adored both the books and movies. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions? You'd better give me landmarks, ha ha. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books? Of course. What was your favourite gym class moment? There're such things as GOOD gym memories in school? Do you think that ocean boardwalks are fun? Yes. Do you dread when people ask you to sign their yearbooks? No, I always thought it was very flattering that they even wanted mine. Do you have a favourite Scooby-Doo movie? The Phantom Virus one. I had the video game as a kid, too. Could never beat the damn thing. Do you think it’s cute when toddlers try to run away and fall down? No? I don't like seeing children - or anyone - fall. Do you enjoy listening to your grandparents tell stories of their past? So, this really only happened once, and it was coincidentally the day I learned of her pancreatic cancer, but before Mom told me. I had an assignment to interview someone of an older generation about how various sources of media affected their lives, like the development of TV and such, and she really got into it. It was very interesting to learn about. Do you have a crush on someone? I guess I do idfk. If so... what does his/her name begin with? "D." What attracts you to them? More than anything, the fact he's been there for me without fail. Both single and when I was with Jason and he was interested in me, he's just... been there and has made an effort since high school to be in my life in one way or another. Do they know that you like them? Not anymore, no. We dated for a few months, but I broke up with him because he felt more like my brother, so I would assume he doesn't think I do. Maybe he still is family to me. I really don't know what I feel. If they don't know, why didn't you tell them? I might at some point, idk. We just haven't talked in a while. Name two people that you miss: Jason and Megan. Have you ever seen Titanic? When I was in the hospital, yes. Everyone was crying, lmao. Have you ever swam with dolphins? No, but I would. When was the last time you had a stomachache? Now. Mother Nature finally visited me after three whole fucking months and is v angry. What's going to bed early for you? Like 7:00. Do you want to have a big family in the future? Of pets! Human kids ain't for me. What was the last thing you did that gave you a rush? Hell if I know. Favorite Nicholas Cage movie? Ghost Rider. Have you had your Covid vaccine yet? Which one, if you have? Yes. I got Moderna. If you've had your vaccine, did you experience any side effects? I did on my second dosage. I was OUT of it the day afterwards, but then I was fine. What's the next item of clothing that you intend to buy for yourself? I need new bras badly. What Facebook groups have you found the most helpful? It's called "Not Just A Pet Rock (Python regius)" and is a group for advanced ball python husbandry. It is very informative, but I will say there is a SHITLOAD of very rude elitists. Do you like your butt? Why or why not? NO because it's a PANCAKE and I want CAKE. Have you ever personally been a victim of homophobia? I personally think so. When Sara visited and we were trying to go to my older sister's so she especially could meet her, Ash entirely ignored Mom's messages. I know her homophobic husband well enough to nearly be able to guarantee he didn't want us coming over because the kids "don't need to see that." Ash kinda does what Nick says, so... you know. Do you think you’d be happier if you had a pet? I know I'm happier with pets. Who was the last person you went on a date with? Sara. Were you ever hospitalized as a little kid? No. What’s your favorite way to curl your hair? It's too short to do that. At what age did you start swearing? However old I was in 7th grade. What is something you physically can’t do? Clean up vomit lkdsjal;sdkjfa;lkwd. I can't clean up my pet's or even my own. I literally can't. My mom has to. What do like better, apples or oranges? Apples. I don't like oranges. Around the holidays, do you hope for snow? Yes!!! What are your top two favorite bands? Ozzy Osbourne and Metallica. How many people do you 100% trust? Like two. Maybe. Do you care what others think about you? Way too much. Has anyone ever called you a bitch? My grandmother has. Did you watch Teletubbies when you were younger? Omg yes, I was obsessed. Do you have any licenses other than your driver's license? I don't even have that. Could you live the rest of your life without eating meat? No. Not because I don't want to, because I do, but I would have an extreme protein deficit if I did that. Besides meat, I don't like enough protein-rich foods. Have you ever had a rolling backpack? Yes. Did you make any money today? I haven't made any money in a very, very long time. I'm only ever paid when someone hires me to take pictures for them. What was the highest place you've ever jumped from? I don't know. Definitely not very high. Have you ever gone swimming in a river? Yes. What was the last souvenir someone got you? I have zero clue. Do you have a favorite remix of a song? Hm. Perhaps this techno-y remix of "Psychosocial" by Slipknot. I don't know for sure, though. What do you think is the most saddest sounding instrument? Either the violin or piano. Do you really pay attention to the ratings on movies? Nope. Do you have a favorite species of wild cat (tiger/lion/cougar/etc.)? Probably clouded leopards aesthetics, but I think lions overall. If you had $500,000, what would you do with it? Pay off school debt as well as help Mom with various financial issues, buy new glasses, buy Mom and I a new house and car, get Venus a great tank with all the optimal supplies, get LOADS of tattoos, donate to various charities, adopt a few specific pets, travel to Yellowstone, get laser hair removal on my legs and teeth whitening... There are a lot of possibilities. Did the last person you touched lips with have a kid? Just scaly ones. :') "First loves are never really over." Is this true for you? Yeeeep... Did you like Michael Jackson before he died? I didn't really have an opinion on him. I know/like a couple songs, sure. What are some things that would make you break up with someone? If they became abusive, started doing drugs, acted arrogantly, didn't understand my mental conditions and were unwilling to be emotionally supportive, stuff like that. What was the worst breakup you've ever had? Ha, the one with Jason. For. Fucking. Sure.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''degrade'' by 3teeth

3 notes · View notes

rpmemesbyarat · 3 years

Conversation

RP Meme Lines from "AHS: Coven" Episode 2: "Boy Parts" Part One of Two

Every hook I baited with that jerk chicken got a gator.

It's the odor, I tell you.

Yeah, either way it's a death sentence.

Come on, come to Papa/Mama, baby.

Well, we're cooked if she already made the call

This is wrong. All wrong.

All rot and black.

This will not be forgiven.

Why would you kill God's innocent creatures?

You play with dead things, you're more than likely to join'em.

He should be canonized.

How can you be such a bitch?

I understand people, and that guy would have happily taken a turn on me if he had the chance.

He wasn't like that.

It's guilt by association.

I'm sorry I killed your boy candy, okay?

Given your black widow status, he was living on borrowed time anyways.

I'm kind of busy right now.

My God, what's that smell?

I went to a Chinese doctor, he gave me some herbs to boil. I know it's kind of pungent.

If you scream, I'm gonna put you right back in the ground where I found you.

I want you to tell me right now how it is you're still alive after all these years and not some moldering corpse.

Jesus, woman, it's a cell phone, all right?

Now you just stay quiet, and when I get back, we're gonna continue our little chat. And you better make it worth my while.

I got an "A" in math. All of 'em. Calculus, trig, advanced algebra.

Look, I'm sure you're a genius.

Look, Pencil Dick, I'm not stupid, okay?

You ate that extra piece, and now you want a freebie.

Get the manager!

I am the manager!

Did they send you to jail?

Help! She's burned me!

You didn't want to join us at first.

So, technically, I'm part of your tribe.

Is this where we all sing "Kum-Bah-Yah"?

Bitch, I will eat you!

You guys have got to start taking care of each other.

We have enough enemies on the outside.

How could they possibly do that?

I'm just looking for someone who had a motive to hurt those guys, who could've screwed with the brakes.

Maybe whatever happened in that room was upsetting.

Shouldn't we have a lawyer here or something?

Had you met them before?

They took me in the back room to try to get me high, but I said no.

She's come a long way with her addiction issues.

I felt bad for him.

He died right after you left.

I have no idea what she's talking about.

She's clearly lost her mind.

She can move things with her mind.

I killed that asshole in the hospital.

I have powers, too.

We're witches.

I have powers, too. We're witches.

[NAME] has clearly suffered some kind of mental break.

Everyone here is a witch.

Please don't send us to jail.

Nobody's going to jail.

Are you in charge here?

I'm in charge everywhere.

Oh. Tough guy.

Come on, give up.

I'm barely trying, you know.

In about ten seconds, I'm going to turn the heat up in that chubby melon of yours, and I'm gonna turn your brains to scrambled eggs.

Frankly, it's been a hard morning, and I'd really rather not work up a sweat.

Just drink the damn water, will you, please?

Do you think [NAME] can fix it?

You're such a goddamn idiot.

I can't believe you told them everything.

I'm supposed to be cleaning up my act.

When this gets out, I'm screwed.

Who cares? This is murder.

Who cares? This is murder. Like, multiple murders.

They're not gonna find any evidence that we messed with the bus because we didn't mess with the bus!

What did you do to that shit-dick in the hospital though?

Now, I forgave your ham-handed mass murder business with the bus-- overexuberance of youth and all that-- but if you haven't got the goddamn brains to know that when strangers come asking questions, we close ranks, then I fear our line is truly at an end.

I couldn't toast a piece of bread with the heat they were putting on you.

You are soft. You're emotional. You care what people think.

Now, if there's one thing you learn before leaving this place, it's that we, even the weakest among us, are better than the best of them.

Are we gonna get arrested?

You are missing the point.

In this whole wide wicked world, the only thing you have

to be afraid of is me.

I know what you did for me, dealing with that asshole, so I'm gonna return the favor.

Resurrection spell. We're gonna bring your boyfriend/girlfriend/dog/father/etc back to life.

Guess that crash was even worse than I thought.

He's still kind of cute though.

I see potential.

I wonder if he's a shower or a grower.

Is this just a joke to you?

All we have to do is follow this recipe.

Find me a saw.

How's the oven?

I wish I could say yes.

She goes through hell and it doesn't even work.

We've been at this for a year.

All I can do is stand around like an asshole while you get sick.

If you want to try this, I'll support it.

I'm not ready to give up.

I should be able to have a baby just like any other woman.

I know it's horrible, but a lot of women do this.

This is about us having a family.

You don't know what you're asking me to do.

This kind of magic-- it's. . . dark.

It's about life and death, and I don't want to play God.

So you're gonna let [NAME] play God instead.

Doesn't that smell good?

You probably don't need to eat, being immortal.

Of course, sometimes we just like to do things because we enjoy them.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay memes #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #ahs #ahs coven

6 notes · View notes

sebastianshaw · 3 years

Conversation

RP Meme Lines from "AHS: Coven" Episode 2: "Boy Parts" Part One of Two

Every hook I baited with that jerk chicken got a gator.

It's the odor, I tell you.

Yeah, either way it's a death sentence.

Come on, come to Papa/Mama, baby.

Well, we're cooked if she already made the call

This is wrong. All wrong.

All rot and black.

This will not be forgiven.

Why would you kill God's innocent creatures?

You play with dead things, you're more than likely to join'em.

He should be canonized.

How can you be such a bitch?

I understand people, and that guy would have happily taken a turn on me if he had the chance.

He wasn't like that.

It's guilt by association.

I'm sorry I killed your boy candy, okay?

Given your black widow status, he was living on borrowed time anyways.

I'm kind of busy right now.

My God, what's that smell?

I went to a Chinese doctor, he gave me some herbs to boil. I know it's kind of pungent.

If you scream, I'm gonna put you right back in the ground where I found you.

I want you to tell me right now how it is you're still alive after all these years and not some moldering corpse.

Jesus, woman, it's a cell phone, all right?

Now you just stay quiet, and when I get back, we're gonna continue our little chat. And you better make it worth my while.

I got an "A" in math. All of 'em. Calculus, trig, advanced algebra.

Look, I'm sure you're a genius.

Look, Pencil Dick, I'm not stupid, okay?

You ate that extra piece, and now you want a freebie.

Get the manager!

I am the manager!

Did they send you to jail?

Help! She's burned me!

You didn't want to join us at first.

So, technically, I'm part of your tribe.

Is this where we all sing "Kum-Bah-Yah"?

Bitch, I will eat you!

You guys have got to start taking care of each other.

We have enough enemies on the outside.

How could they possibly do that?

I'm just looking for someone who had a motive to hurt those guys, who could've screwed with the brakes.

Maybe whatever happened in that room was upsetting.

Shouldn't we have a lawyer here or something?

Had you met them before?

They took me in the back room to try to get me high, but I said no.

She's come a long way with her addiction issues.

I felt bad for him.

He died right after you left.

I have no idea what she's talking about.

She's clearly lost her mind.

She can move things with her mind.

I killed that asshole in the hospital.

I have powers, too.

We're witches.

I have powers, too. We're witches.

[NAME] has clearly suffered some kind of mental break.

Everyone here is a witch.

Please don't send us to jail.

Nobody's going to jail.

Are you in charge here?

I'm in charge everywhere.

Oh. Tough guy.

Come on, give up.

I'm barely trying, you know.

In about ten seconds, I'm going to turn the heat up in that chubby melon of yours, and I'm gonna turn your brains to scrambled eggs.

Frankly, it's been a hard morning, and I'd really rather not work up a sweat.

Just drink the damn water, will you, please?

Do you think [NAME] can fix it?

You're such a goddamn idiot.

I can't believe you told them everything.

I'm supposed to be cleaning up my act.

When this gets out, I'm screwed.

Who cares? This is murder.

Who cares? This is murder. Like, multiple murders.

They're not gonna find any evidence that we messed with the bus because we didn't mess with the bus!

What did you do to that shit-dick in the hospital though?

I couldn't toast a piece of bread with the heat they were putting on you.

You are soft. You're emotional. You care what people think.

Now, if there's one thing you learn before leaving this place, it's that we, even the weakest among us, are better than the best of them.

Are we gonna get arrested?

You are missing the point.

In this whole wide wicked world, the only thing you have

to be afraid of is me.

I know what you did for me, dealing with that asshole, so I'm gonna return the favor.

Resurrection spell. We're gonna bring your boyfriend/girlfriend/dog/father/etc back to life.

Guess that crash was even worse than I thought.

He's still kind of cute though.

I see potential.

I wonder if he's a shower or a grower.

Is this just a joke to you?

All we have to do is follow this recipe.

Find me a saw.

How's the oven?

I wish I could say yes.

She goes through hell and it doesn't even work.

We've been at this for a year.

All I can do is stand around like an asshole while you get sick.

If you want to try this, I'll support it.

I'm not ready to give up.

I should be able to have a baby just like any other woman.

I know it's horrible, but a lot of women do this.

This is about us having a family.

You don't know what you're asking me to do.

This kind of magic-- it's. . . dark.

It's about life and death, and I don't want to play God.

So you're gonna let [NAME] play God instead.

Doesn't that smell good?

You probably don't need to eat, being immortal.

Of course, sometimes we just like to do things because we enjoy them.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #ahs #ahs coven #american horror story #my meme #my memes #my starters #out of shirt #okay to reblog

6 notes · View notes

bittys · 5 years

Text

dads slutty new shorts are really a bear magnet - seirei - 1/3

READ ON AO3

Pairing: reigen arataka/serizawa katsuya

REBLOGS > LIKES

Summary- Reigen decided to make his new highly attractive neighbor a pie as a "welcome/thanks for waking me up at six in the morning/sorry for your ugly house" gift. And it was a good idea at first, he thought, it coming out of the oven lopsided could have been the only problem. Until it turned out that the new neighbor, while highly attractive, was also allergic to almonds. Yikes. Seriously, who doesn't consider nut allergies?

...At least he gets a date out of it.

Saturday morning, Reigen awoke to the sound of a buzzing truck engine and soft laughter. The frame of his bed was vibrating softly with the noise, the first time it had moved with such expeditious energy in a while. He groaned. It was early, he could tell as he carefully slid his eyelids open to the bronze sunlight that peaked underneath the cracked window and brought in the smell of last nights rain and early sunrise dew. He lolled his head over to the clock that shone in red, 6:37 A.M. Who was awake, causing this much noise, at 6:37 in the fucking morning? Oh how he’d love to meet the bastard. He rolled back over to the empty space next to him, stared for a moment, and then swung his legs over the mattress. There was no use in trying to sleep again, not with the constant vibrations of the truck parked but yet to be shut down out front. Beside the noise that seemed to come through louder when his bedroom door shut, the rest of the house was silent; Absent of the screaming, annoying kids that he loved so dearly. He shoved the curtain at the window by the front of the door aside, and squinted past the sun rays that painted across the pink and orange horizon, to see a large moving truck. The house that been for sale since they had moved into the neighborhood six months ago had finally been sold, apparently, with a cost that wasn’t the absurdly high mortgage price. It was downright ugly. At first, Reigen had thought that it perhaps had been haunted or something, it couldn’t of been that bad. But the more he had to live next to it and look at the damned thing when he was parking, the more he realized that even the dead had to have taste. The dreary green topped off with the growing moss on the shutters was enough of a sight to make him want to go over and paint and clean the entire thing himself. There was only one simple moving truck outside, the name of the company printed in bright orange on the side. A few movers came back and forth from the house to the truck, doing what you’d think they’d be doing, carrying boxes to-and-fro. But absent of the generic beige outfits the movers wore, was a taller man, thickened around the edges of his body, wearing a pair of track pants and a white sweater. By the ruffle of his dark hair and the shadow on his face, he looked as equally as tired as Reigen. But hell, if he wasn’t attractive. Reigen pulled the curtains shut and turned to the kitchen with a sudden need for a cup of coffee. He poured his cup. Straight black, as always. And he sat on one of the leather stools at the island. The house was quiet without the kids up to make trouble. It made him shift awkwardly in his seat, like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Usually, when the kids weren’t up to bother him, he’d be talking with Ekubo, or sharing smiles, or ignoring the chatter on the television because they're too distracted with their own gossip and gentle kisses. But in the end, he did what he did best and left the house with a deafening silence. Reigen sipped his coffee. He thought about the new man living next door. Perhaps he should strip his bitter mood with a bit of sweetness; he could make the new neighbor a pie. That wasn’t something he’d normally do… and hell, did neighbors even welcome each other with sweet pies and casseroles anymore? He wasn’t sure. But he was sure of the thoughts of disgraceful men in his head, how tired he was, and how maybe a bit of good karma would help him out. It didn’t have to be of good nature, did it? As long as he made it with kindness and love, he could totally write in pink icing: Sorry about your ugly house! Or say something along the lines of: Thanks for waking me up at six thirty in the morning and ruining my entire day! Whilst handing the man the pie. Okay, so Reigen didn’t know much about how that worked. And that man was far too attractive to get something with such ill-mannered intentions. But he did know that there was an overwhelming amount of strawberries growing from his and the kids’ strawberry bushes planted in the pots in the backyard, and a package of almonds he’d bought a few months ago before he realized he absolutely did not like almonds. The kids could pick the strawberries, he could make the pie and bring it by during lunch later. It was a rare, yet good, idea. For the good karma, not the hot men. Of course. He pushed himself up from the barstool, leaving his coffee half-drunk. He pulled open the pantry door and located what he needed: Flour, sugar, salt, cornstarch, extract, shortbread cookies, and of course the opened bag of almonds with only one almond missing. He towered them in his arms to carry to the island and lay them out in the order they’d need to be in— not including the refrigerated items. He then slapped his hands together to brush off the stray flour accumulated on the bag and transferred to his hands from carrying, and turned to the fridge to do the same with the rest of the ingredients: butter, milk, and whipped cream. It was 7:16 A.M by the time he began baking, and 8:40 A.M once the boys had awakened from their slumber. They came padding out of their shared room, eyes lazily half-lidded. “Smells good,” Mob mumbled as he rubbed a small fist against his eye. Breathing in the sweet scent of the almond crust, Reigen pulled out the pie pan from the oven. The crust was baked a perfect golden brown, small cracks around the curve of the pan but smooth over the thick bottom. “Pie!” Reigen exclaimed, twisting to place the pan on the counter. He pulled off his pink mitts and kicked the oven shut with his foot. “Do you boys wanna go pick some strawberries for me? We’re gonna go visit the new neighbor today and I need it for the pie.” “Only if we can have a slice,” Ritsu responded. He was already walking to the back door to flip the lock. “If he offers it, sure. But don’t be spoiled,” Reigen said. “Mob?” Mob shrugged. “Sure.” Reigen gave them a smile and watched as they left to the backyard. It was a small deck surrounded by the limited greenery of the yard, but it was enough to carry a few medium sized planters pots for their growing fruits and vegetables. They didn’t get into the gardening hobby until Ekubo left, leaving them with less funds for food and outdoor activities like beaches and parks. Despite that, it was fun and good for bonding. So far, they had plenty of cucumbers, melons, tomatoes, strawberries, and other sorts of foods that they enjoyed better than store-bought. They came back inside a few minutes later with strawberry stained fingers, pink around their mouths, and handfuls of dark red strawberries. They release them onto the counter, watching them roll across the surface before losing interest and scrambling up onto the barstools to watch Reigen instead. The both of them are in sync, leaning their cheeks onto their tiny fists. Reigen collected the strawberries off the counter. In the cup of his hands, he rinsed them of the soil and— a contribution from the children— stickiness, cut the leafy green tops off, and threw them into a bowl. He mashed them, poured sugar and a couple other ingredients in, and stirred. “We have a new neighbor?” Ritsu asked. “Do you think they have kids?” There only seemed to be a man present, but Reigen wasn’t sure. He found himself hoping that there weren’t any kids, that it was just a single man living on his own in an ungodly green house. “We’ll have to find out, won’t we?” He said as he poured the mixture on top of the crust. As soon as the mixture emptied the mixing bowl and filled the pan, apart of the crust crumbles. “Shit.” He frantically tried to push the crust back into place with the tips of his fingers, but he was far too shaky and the crust was already too hard to shape. He sends a prayer to the Gods and simply covered it with the strawberry mixture and a spoon. “You messed it up, Daddy,” Mob pointed out. Reigen rolled his eyes and shoved it into the oven, annoyance prickling at his chest. “I did not. This is fine. It’s fine.” He clicked the button on top of the oven to start the baking again. Brunch went by quickly, and the house was beginning to fill with the scent of bitter sweetness. After he cleaned up his mess, he poured himself another hot cup of coffee, and made bacon and eggs for the boys and himself. They ate with some chatter here and there, but it was mostly a comfortable silence until they finished eating. “Will you marry the new neighbor, daddy?” Mob suddenly asked. Reigen almost choked on the sip of his coffee. “Not in the foreseeable future,” “But you’re making him a pie~” Ritsu chimed in, a song to his voice. “Why don’t we go get dressed and decide on that when we bring it by?” Reigen set down his cup and smiled awkwardly, a tight grip at the sides of the stool to push himself down. The kids jump out of their seats with a clap to their feet as they run to their bedroom, apparently delighted by the idea of another marriage. With Reigen’s own luck, the man is going to wind up married with five children. Or maybe 70 years old with a great skincare routine. Reigen rinsed the plates and set them into the dishwasher, then retreated into his own bedroom to pick out clothing. It shouldn’t of mattered what he wore, but he found himself pulling things out of his drawers carelessly until he decided that nothing was right for the matter of occasion. He decided simply on a t-shirt and a pair of new pink shorts that reached barely mid-thigh. He’d recently bought them on sale at a thrift store. The kids didn’t hesitate to make fun of him for them. They exposed the coarse hair that rose to his thighs, and the fact that he never really went outside. Mob and Ritsu are dressed when Reigen leaves the bedroom. They’re bouncing excitedly on the couch. “Are you ready to go?” Reigen asked as he moved to the kitchen to pull the pie out of the oven. The thickly filling had seemed to cover the collapse for the most part, but it was still evident in the way the red leaked out and snuck between the crust and the pan. Yikes. He pulled it out, wrapped the pie in foil, and they left the house. The sun beamed down on their skin as they walked. Reigen was already sweating by the time they were half way down the sidewalk, an uncomfortably damp residue beneath his armpits. The moving truck was gone, and the outside of the ugly green house was absent of any other person. There’s a couple of small boxes on the concrete patio. They walk up the dusty pathway, Mob and Ritsu trailing behind. Reigen used his hand free of the intense heat seeping through the tinfoil to ring the doorbell. The walls of the house are thin enough to hear the echo of the ring from the inside, and the sound of approaching footsteps. He straightened his back and checked the tinfoil that covered the pie to make sure of no flaws like a rip or a hole. The doorknob twisted and the door swung open. No woman or small child, it was the same man that he had seen out front earlier. This time dressed down to a white t-shirt, and the same tracksuit pants with white lines at the sides. He looked more rugged up close, but daringly attractive at the same time. His hair was a sweaty, ruffled mess. His beard far more lighter and sparse than what it looked to be through the window, and there are prominent bags under his eyes that could not have been visible from so far away. “Oh! Company. Hello!” The man smiled through his tired look. Reigen swallowed down the dryness working its way up his throat. The resent for his early rising was suddenly gone, replaced by heat buried deep in his chest. “We’re sorry to bug you, you must be busy unpacking and stuff. But we made you a pie to welcome you to the neighborhood.” He shoved the pie outwards with a lopsided grin. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. With the short pause in the conversation, Reigen scrambled for a grip on his introduction that was being pulled away by new infatuation. “Reigen Arataka, by the way. These are my two sons, Mob and Ritsu.” The man looked down at the tin foil, then up from Reigen’s pink shorts to the two children behind him. Under the glaze of the sunlight, a flush creeped up his cheeks. “It smells great, thank you! I’m Serizawa,” He paused just as Reigen did, and then, “Katsuya. Sorry, Serizawa Katsuya. Hah, It’s been a long morning moving in this heat all alone.” He scratched the back of his neck. Reigen doesn’t want to think it, but, score! “If you ever need any help, I live right next door.” He doesn’t exactly mean the offer, because really, who willingly moves and unpacks boxes unless there was something in it for them like money— or in his case— an attractive man. Serizawa Katsuya reached out and grabbed the pie carefully. The thicker tips of his fingers brush over Reigen’s as he did so. “I think you’ve done enough already, nobody would ever do this in Tokyo.” He gestured with the pie. “But if I may, would you like to come in and help eat some of this? I live alone, it wouldn’t be respectful to let it go stale…” While Ritsu did tug on the back of Reigen’s shorts as if to say yes, yes! he’s already hastily accepting the offer. They followed Serizawa into his home. It was nicer on the inside than it was on the outside, with a similar layout to their own home. Boxes were strewn out across the living room, some opened, some still sealed. The couch, a mustard color with a soft looking texture, sat covered in plastic in the middle of the room. There was a television already on a glass stand, unhooked. But besides that, unopened boxes, and a few paintings hung on the white walls, the place was practically empty. Nobody else was around, it seemed. The house was just as quiet. They were lead to the kitchen. There were two chairs already pushed underneath the island, a different colored marbled top than their own. Serizawa set the pie down and began dismantling the tinfoil. Reigen’s heart skips a beat or two. If only he could turn back time for a few minutes and bake the pie just two minutes longer. It wouldn’t look like the lopsided mess that it was now. “Ah… The pie is a bit…crumbled. Amateur here.” He stared down at the way Serizawa’s hands slow to intricate movements across the foil, nails sliding carefully underneath as so not to cause more destruction. “No worries,” He got most of the foil off but kept it beneath the glass pan to rewrap with later. “Do you bake a lot?” “Sometimes. The kids and I garden, so we have lots to make sometimes.” Serizawa bent down into an open box, and pulled out four glass plates and a wrapping full of utensils. Apparently, the utensils were more important than the glass dishes. He set them out on the island. The kids each grabbed a plate and held it close to their chests, eagerly awaiting a taste of their fathers baking. He doesn’t bother with the collapsed side as he cuts it, and Reigen doesn’t feel the slightest offended. The strawberry filling floods over the sides and collects in a puddle at the bottom of the glass, steaming with a sweet sent. “So is it just you and the kids?” Serizawa asked and then stopped his movements, “Sorry, that was rude.” Reigen opened his mouth to speak, but proving to be listening, Mob chimed in. “Daddy is thinking about marrying you! You can be our new dad also!” Ritsu slapped him on the arm. “Ow.” Reigen’s eyes widened, heat flushing across his cheeks to match the newfound coloring on Serizawa’s. “O-Oh.” “No, no, no, no!” Reigen waved his hands in front of himself frantically. It suddenly felt hot in the room, all across his body. He wanted nothing more than to slap the shit out of his child. Or maybe himself, because he did say that in a way. “No. I did not say that oh god—Mob!— I am so sorry. K-kids, you know?” Beneath the island looked far more comfier than beneath the sight of surprised eyes. But then, he laughs and goes back to cutting. “Oh gosh, that’s okay. I can take that as an answer to my question, yeah?” With a quick nod, Reigen grabbed himself a slice. He considered not giving the kids a slice so not to fulfill their hyperactivity again, but Serizawa placed each of them a sliver of a piece before he could object. “Thank you, Mister,” Ritsu said. They ate in silence. It’s unsettling to not know if it was because his kids had big mouths, or there just wasn’t much to talk about. At the very most, the pie was delicious. A smooth filling, bitter but sweet with the soft chew of melted down strawberries. Serizawa threw a few compliments his way, and that made up for the lack of conversation until their plates were empty with leftover crumbs and jelly-like spots. Eating was a great first date, because you didn’t have to talk through the awkward parts. You could simply just fill your mouth with savory foods until you pile up your dates bill and leave, or find something else to talk about. But this— to Reigen’s misfortune, anyway— wasn’t a date, just a welcome made awkward by a seven year old. The idea, he supposed, still counted. Serizawa was on his last bite when he coughed out the barely chewed forkful. It landed disgustingly on his plate, a splat. Was it really that bad? He dropped the fork next, his hands flying up to his throat. The kids jumped up from their squeezed spot in the chair and run to Serizawa. They pull on his shirt. “Woah, woah. Are you okay?” Reigen followed behind and started clapping his hands against his back. He struggled. His shoulder blades quivered beneath the frantic touch of Reigen's hands. As his own hands awere wrapped tightly around his throat as if to help the choking somehow, he managed out, “What was in the pie?” Ritsu let go of his shirt and looked at Reigen accusingly. “Dad, did you poison the pie?” Reigen pressed his eyebrows together. “What? No. There’s uh…” The memories of the ingredients fall short in his memory. He didn’t do good under pressure. “Uh, strawberries…sugar…almonds…butter-“ “Almonds!” Serizawa choked. “I’m- a-allerg-“ He coughed more. He didn’t need to complete his sentence for Reigen to realize what was happening. He dealt with it all too much when Mob was little. Fish, peanuts, you name it, he couldn’t have it. He was having an allergic fucking reaction, all due to his shitty, sloppily made pie. Who makes things with nuts on the first day of not knowing someone? That was purely idiotic, a thought that had escaped him due to the need of wooing a man. He stopped and pocketed his cellphone to dial an ambulance. The hospital waiting area was stuffy, the air carrying an undertone of strengthened bleach. The few people that sat in the dull grey chairs didn't look like they needed to be there— one had a cough, the other sat on their phone, bored with half-lidded eyes. Quick moving nurses took Serizawa immediately. By the time the ambulance had arrived, his face had grown purple and puffy, and disregarding of the thousands of fumbled apologies Reigen gave while they wheeled him out. Mob and Ritsu played at the small children’s corner with a bead rollercoaster and a couple of small toy trucks, when a nurse came out. She was pretty, long black hair tied into a ponytail, with the same dull look on her face as the people in the waiting room. “Mr. Serizawa seems to be holding up okay. He’s awake and has been treated. You’re free to visit him now if you’d like. Room 203.” She explained before she walked off to tend to another, her ponytail flipping onto her shoulder. Reigen nodded as if she could see him and he walked over to claim Mob and Ritsu. They walked down the hallway, where the scent of bleach only grew stronger. It had about as much personality as the rest of the hospital; opened doors exposing bored-stricken sick patients, dull blue floors and dove walls with paintings of oceans and lakes and trees. The place certainly isn’t run by risk-takers such as Reigen, baking pies for people with nut allergies, and he guessed he should be grateful for that. Amongst the various slates with numbers besides the doors came room 203. Reigen knocked gently and twisted the knob. The kids stumbled through the cracked doorway into the room, excited to see Serizawa in all his swollen glory. Except, he looked rather fine now. “Hey, Serizawa…” Reigen cracked an awkward smile. Serizawa lay covered by the thin hospital sheet, a pillow perching his head up to view the television, turned to a news broadcast. His face, unlike before, was slimmed down again with only a flushed tint around his eyes. “Reigen,” He greeted. He pushed himself up, sheets falling into a bundle atop his lap. The kids moved to sit on the two visitors chairs pushed against the wall by the counters. “Thanks for following me here,” He sounded sincere, not sarcastic. Reigen perched himself on the mattress with precision as to not sit on Serizawa’s feet and cause even more damage than before. “I’m really sorry, this has been an awkward meeting from start to finish. I hadn’t considered the possibility of an allergic reaction…I-I—“ Serizawa cut him off. “Oh, Reigen. Don’t worry. I’m fine! How could you of known? You did the right thing, I don’t even have an Epipen in my house.” He chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck. “It could have been worse, really.” “How can I make it up to you?” Reigen ran his hands down his face. Glancing from the kids to Reigen, a soft pink blush matches the red around his eyes. “Tomorrow,” He said, “You can take me on a date.”

#serirei #seirei #mob psycho 100 #mp100 #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #DILF REIGEN BABEY #my writing #bittys txt #writing #writeblr #fanfiction #ao3 #reblogs are appreciated #idk how to layout writing on here but we'll figure it out eventually fellas

44 notes · View notes

long-bodyswap · 5 years

Text

Pool boy

This is one of the best stories i’ve ever found, i specially love it because of the details of the body exploration. Hope you like it too. I don’t have the credits.

Beauty comes with many flaws.

When you want what he’s got, you get the total package.

He was hard not to notice. Nothing but packed, dark chocolate muscle in short tight dark blue swim trunks, if you could call them “trunks,” more like a dark blue second skin over a bubble butt. You could see the dimples in his glutes, the trunks were so tight. Each day since I’d got to the hotel in Puerto Plata, he had arrived at the pool just after I’d come down from my room and settled into the lounge chair. I’d wanted a quiet hotel and this place was great. Nice rooms, a decent restaurant, the pool and a private garden. It wasn’t cheap, but I could afford it. Years of working and I’d made a ton of money. But, what did I have? No lover, and I was tired, out of shape. I looked 75—more than 15 years older than I was. My body was a ruin. I’d become the rich, ugly old geezer lusting after muscle boys; the guy I never wanted to be. I was tired of New York, and my pals had told me about a great “men’s” hotel in the Dominican Republic. Secluded, luxurious and filled with buff young male personnel—waiters, houseboys, yardmen. Not one of them older than about 28, most in their early 20s. You name it, and the hotel had him—all shapes and sizes from swimmer, to runner, to muscle boy, and all luscious, fully baked and ready to provide whatever made an old queen happy. They were all excellent at it if you could believe all of my friends from New York—and there were a lot of them who came here. My pals told me that the rent boys knew what you wanted even before you asked. The hotel was very popular with rich, old queens from the States and Europe—mainly the UK. Tons of frustration for me every time I looked around at the staff—but particularly the muscle boys, each one of those chocolate muscle hunks was my wet dream. I’d landed at the small international airport not far from town. Puerto Plata is far north from Santo Domingo, along the Atlantic coast. It’s one of the smaller towns, the resorts dominate the beaches while the rest of the population lives a much simpler life. The contrast is stark between the haves and the have-nots. On the drive from the airport, the transport van drove through the middle of town—only one traffic light. We hit a red, of course. Immediately, three morenos—that’s what they call the poor, working class here, began to wash the van’s windows. The hotel driver cursed at them, as the light changed he drove off. The ride to the hotel from there was through the poorest part of town, near the harbor. The poverty loomed large on each side of the road. Rundown houses, shacks and sometimes little shanties. I was glad to get to the hotel. After I checked into my room, I took a book and went down to the pool to relax. That’s when I fist saw that powerful, well-built chocolate body in the tight dark blue trunks. He’d come to the end of the pool and stripped off his sweatpants to reveal the tight blue swim trunks, cut just above his package and stretched tight on his thighs—so short it almost wasn’t on his thighs. It was amazing and I was hooked. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect form—especially compared to the body that I was in after years of neglect. I’d lifted when I was young—I wanted that perfect gym-boy body. But, I never had the genetics to bulk up. Not even with a little help. I’d given up. But, this chocolate body had it all—the genetics, the shape and the size. Just what I’d always wanted. I watched the tight ass in the dark blue trunks put down the pool brush and the vacuum. He couldn’t be more than 20, about 5’9’’, working at the hotel, but he was stunning. 220 pounds of hard-packed muscle, totally fat free. He rolled out the hose and then knelled down at the edge of the pool to attach the hose into the filter. He stood up and grabbed the long brush pole. He leaned over and changed the brush head for the vacuum head. Christ, you could see every muscle in his back—it was huge. The lats were like wings—spread out so far I swear he could fly. And no fat! The Christmas Tree just above those tight glutes stood out like a beacon. You had to want it to have muscularity like that. The diet alone would kill you, not to mention the hours of gym time. I doubted that I could ever be that dedicated to my body, but I wouldn’t have minded trying for a while. He stood up and grabbed the vacuum pole with both hands. He stood at the edge of the pool and began to clean the sides. Up he would pull the pole, high over his head, and then back down. Slowly moving around the pool and towards me. With each pass of his arms, you could see every muscle move in his back. The traps trembled as he pushed the pole down the side of the pool. God, they were like two huge ropes, starting at his neck and then running to his delts. Shoulders of a muscle god. The arms were perfect too. The outer tri’s were thick and defined. His upper arm swept down over the bicep perfectly, and his forearms were thick and huge. The wrists were wide—you could tell he’d been working his body since he was a teenager. You don’t get those thick wrists unless you had put a lot of stress on the joint while it was forming. He was slowly moving closer to me as he rounded the corner of the pool. It took him a good hour to clean the pool (which seemed a little too long to me), and then he went on to other duties at the hotel. Mostly, menial stuff. And, I wondered what else he did. It couldn’t be a great life. Down here most people were dirt poor, living in some shanty town, and trying to get out and to the States. When the other yard guys came around the pool, you could tell he did what they told him to do. Sometimes, they’d yell at him about forgetting one thing or another they’d told him. Too bad the great bodies always were a little dumb. As I stared at his huge chocolate body, I was getting noticeably hard the closer he came to me. “You like what he got?” a voice said in my ear—startled the hell out of me. It was the head housemaid. A big, smiling Dominican woman. She was holding a coffee pot and poured me another cup. “Sure,” I said. “Who wouldn’t, muscles like that are hard to get and hard to keep. I never had ‘em, but I should have tried. Money’s great, but a perfect body is better.” She smiled and said, “You watch him all de time, if you like what you see I could get it all for you, den we both be happy.” She smiled again and walked off. I sipped on the coffee—it was damn hot. And looked back to the pool. He had moved almost in front of me. The bubble butt was so close I could almost squeeze it. So, I continued my scan of the body. The back was massive. As I said, the lats were like angel wings and the taper to the waist was impressive. I swear the chest must be at least 54 inches with those lats; the waist couldn’t be more than 30 inches. And, those dark blue trunks. Christ, I wanted to run a finger down those tight cheeks. I could almost feel the muscle, just like it was mine. I could sure make that body into my wet dream. Maybe I should give it a try tonight, I thought. The legs were excellent too. You could tell that squats must one of his favorite movements. The top of the 30-inch thighs swept down to the knees from the wide and thick top to the end of the leg bicep. And, the calves! They must have been 18 or 19 inches, like little ledges of muscle, moving under the dark chocolate skin each time he stepped along the edge of the pool as he cleaned the sides. But, the ass was the best—just perfect melon-shaped glutes. He turned abruptly and looked right at me. The chest was massive. Square pecs, like slabs of muscle pinned high on him. The nipples were small and placed high up on the pecs, not at the edge like some guys. His areolas were like little chocolate pillows, a little puffy which was a clue that he was loaded with steroid of some type, maybe deca durabolin or primobolan. You couldn’t get that big without some juice like dec. The obliques were striated. He must have been doing side bends when he wasn’t squatting. More than that, it wasn’t a six-pac; it was an eight-pac. The abs were so chiseled that you could run your fingers over the ridges. Little valleys on each side of the ab. The lower abs descended into the dark blue trunks with little ridges. God this guy must diet like hell. “You watch me a lot,” he said. The grin was wide and he tossed his dreadlocks out of his eyes. Always wondered how these Caribbean guys grew those dreads so long. But you could tell from the look in his eyes that whatever was behind them was a dim bulb. His voice had jolted me back from my dreaming, and made me realize that I was watching more than just a body. There was a guy in it and he was trying to make conversation with me. “You’ve got a great build, and it’s hard not to notice that,” I said. “Lots of work,” I said. “You like my body? I been training since I was 15,” he said, “My name Tyrief. What’s yours?” Again, that child-like look. This guy must be just a little slow, I thought to myself, but the body makes up for it. What did my friends always say, you don’t fuck the brain, just the body. This guy was a good example—but the body more than made up for it. “I’m Ben Stratton,” I said. “Nice to meet you,“ he said. “When I’m done with de pool, and sweeping de paths, I done. I got to get home, eat and get some sleep. It’s impo’tant to get plenty o’ sleep when you growing yo’ body like I am. I train in the early mornin’ before I come here, about 5 at Delaney’s Gym near de harbor. I got to start training at night too next week. Got to get ready for de all Caribbean Bodybuilding contest. I come in second in de super heavy-weight class last year, and I know I gonna be first this year.” He smiled again, and you forgot about his low-watt bulb. The teeth were so white against that chocolate skin. Not super dark chocolate, more like deep mocha or the color of rich, dark coffee—and it shown like sable. He was gorgeous, more than I’d ever been. As he stood in front of me at the edge of the pool, I was totally hard. Nothing but about 240 pounds of solid, skin-tight muscle in front of me. As he talked you could see his eight-pac move in and out with each breath. His pecs quivered as he moved the pool vacuum pole nervously from hand to hand as he tried to make conversation with me. The veins throbbed and pulsated along his biceps and forearms. Like little ropes of man pleasure just under the chocolate skin. His face was strong and masculine. A wide, flat nose, flared nostrils, with high check bones. Dark, deep brown eyes—almost smoke black.. You could tell that he had mixed blood. Lots of African, some European settler—probably the white farm owner or maybe a sailor in Santo Domingo on leave—and then enough Caribbean Indian to give him those high cheek bones and that straight dark black hair. He was a perfect mix, what the world would eventually be. And it would be a beautiful world. When he was this close, you could tell that his hair was straight and that he teased it into those dreadlocks. His lips were wide, thick and full. The dark skin was lustrous, baby soft. He was a total Caribbean hunk, and I wanted him. He turned and went back to cleaning the pool. “I gotta get dis done,” he said. “See you tomorrow.” He stopped and turned to me. “What it like bein’ rich? I never had nothin’; just work and training. Didn’t even finish school, all de stuff confuse me and de teachers make fun o’ me. But once I start with de weights I get big so fast, no one laugh at me. I like dat so I stop school and work around de harbor. But wid out de school, I can’t get me no good job. I get dis job dis summer, and it pay ok. Just de pool and de yard. Big Betty like me to show of my body to you. She say you men like big guys like me. She pay me enough for a room, de gym and food. I don’t really need mo’ dan dat. Big Betty tells me she get me new job here soon, and den Big Betty want my friend Enrique have dis job. I tell him dat. But I make some money from the contest prizes, I came in second last time—I needed more size on my quads dey sezs. When I win me de super heavy-weight at de Caribbean Bodybuilding Championship dis fall, I use dat money to go to New York. You been dere?” “Yes, I’ve been there, but I’m not rich,” I said. “I got enough for me to get about what I want. I’m from New York City. A muscle hunk like you would do just fine—no need to be smart, just pretty.” Needed more size on his quads, I thought. Didn’t look like that now, so he must have been squatting hard the last few months. Not one of my favorite exercises, my thighs could never push through the movement—although I always gave it a good try. I wished I’d had thighs like those when I was squatting. I could have done something with those thighs—not to mention the rest of that body. But, time had passed me by and I’d lost my chance. If I could do it again with a body like that, I’d be a real size freak. The pool guy smiled and then he left me. He packed up his pool cleaning kit. God, he was beautiful, but you could tell he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. No wonder he hadn’t finished school. The boy was dumb and he sounded like the typical low-class Dominican morenos that had surrounded the hotel van at the traffic light—bad grammar and all. But, the body made up for all of that, hard firm-packed muscle. As to the “good job” he wanted, I could employ him for a few hours of fun tonight at a very decent wage. Maybe I’d get to be with my wet dream soon. I could take “dumb” and low-class if it had a body like that. Just needed to get it while it was young and hunky. I knew exactly what I wanted that muscle god to do to me, and how I wanted him to perform his part of my muscle-worship fantasy. “He pretty muscle boy, I bet you know what you want him to do to you. You want what all dat he got?” came a voice next to my ear which startled the hell out of me again. It was the head housemaid, and she was smiling. “What the heck,” I said. “Don’t creep up on me like that.” She just smiled and said again, “You want what all dat he got? I bet dat you know what to do with what he got too. Make an old guy like you crazy.” She was an odd woman, big and dark. You could tell she was in charge. All of the workers at the hotel ran when she talked. They all were respectful, but you could tell that she meant business and didn’t take any gruff from the staff. She smiled again and said “You want what all dat he got, I get it for you if you do what I tell you.” “Sure, I said, I want what every part of that muscle hunk—I want it all for me. How much?” “A thousand,” she said. A thousand, I thought. That was a lot for one night with a rent boy, but I had the money and, what the hell, the body was gorgeous, everything I ever wanted in one package. Just didn’t know if my old body could get it up for a stud like that. But, as I looked over at the end of the pool, he was crouched over packing up the pool kit. His back muscles moved with every turn of the pool hose—no fat at all and just ridges of muscles. He was squatted down and the bubble butt just screamed from those dark blue, skin-tight trunks. I could feel myself getting hard again. “OK, I said. A thousand is fine. When?” “I get things ready, she said. I come to you soon and you have the money ready.” With that, she walked over to Tyrief and talked to him. While she was talking she ran her fingers through his hair. He looked at her with a serious face and nodded, but you could tell he was tense. She ran her fingers through his hair again and he stiffened, she stuffed something in her pocket and walked off. After she had gone, Tyrief quickly picked up the pool kit and hurried past me to the pool hut. Each stride showed off the muscles of his thighs, moving below the fat-free skin. And, the glutes pumped in the tight trunks. He had the pool hose coiled over his arm, holding it in place. As he ran by me, the veins on his biceps showed against the tight dark skin of his upper arm. He was in a hurry, and didn’t look happy. The eight-pack was remarkable, though. Damn, I was hard again. The thousand dollars would be well-spent on that rent boy. With Tyrief gone, I went back to reading my book and was soon asleep in the lounge chair at pool side. That afternoon, I cashed some Traveler’s Checks so that I’d have the money for my little adventure. I doubted that the head housemaid would produce Tyrief for my pleasure. But, she was clearly the boss here and if anyone could get me what Tyrief had, it was her. Maybe I would soon be stroking those tight glutes through the skin-tight dark blue swim trunks, and running my hands over those perky chocolate nipples—running those dreadlocks through my fingers too. Time would tell if I got to spend the night with that body, and it would be a good story to tell my friends after I got back from vacation. The next morning, I went down to the pool as I normally did, and set up at the lounge chair. Right on schedule, Tyrief came out of the pool hut for his daily pool-cleaning ritual and I sat back to watch. He dropped the pool gear and came straight over to me. “Hello Mon,” he said and sat down next to me. Just looking at him, you could tell he had just left the gym. His muscles were pumped—not huge, just that full look when the blood has been pushed into each cell. The skin quivered a little too—the muscles were still tense under the skin. And, his smell was warm. He had that light musk smell coming off his skin that all chocolate guys had. Don’t know why, but just that musk smell mixed with his sweat got me hard. So that he didn’t know what I was thinking, I dropped by gaze from his face and it landed right at the center of those tight dark blue trunks. God, his package was huge. The bulge was impressive, and he was hard too. The long, thick outline of his erect member pressed against the fabric. I could only guess that the balls were fantastic as well. I was going to enjoy my time with him and that package. “Hey Mon.” Tyrief’s voice shook me back to reality. “Mon, you talk a lot to Big Betty.” “Who?” I said. “Big Betty, dat lady.” And he pointed toward the main hotel. You could just see the head housemaid walk through the door. “Oh, that’s Big Betty.” “Yeah.” Tyrief said. “She talk to you a lot and she nobody to fool with.” “Most folk say she got power and she up to no good.” “Really,” I said. “What has she done. She seems nice to me.” “I don’t know all de stuff. I only come here dis summer. De old pool guy, Carlos, got me dis job. I know him for long time from de gym, he get me started at de weights four years ago. He find me one day after school, cryin’, after de teacher make fun of me. He told me if I go to de gym wid him I get big and nobody bother wid me no mo’. Carlos work for Big Betty full-time now down at the house she keep in town, now dat I here. He still train at de gym, but he don’t talk to me much no more, he just tell me to keep trainin’, dat he leaving and dat I be takin’ his place. Don’t know what he mean, only thing new is dis job he got me. He not like he used to be when I first met him, when he first took me to da gym, before he move into Big Betty’s house and start to work for her full time. She keep dat house for de old guys, like you, to meet de boys. She try to get me to work for her all of de time; she say I got de body dat her clients would pay for. I don’t like her and I stay away. She not like that and told me she needed what I got and would get it. You seem OK and you should stay away from her.” He left me then and started his work. The dark blue swim trunks were stretched tight across his melon-mound glutes. God, they were great. I could hardly wait to run my hands over those glutes. When he turned, he saw me looking and grinned. He rubbed his eight-pack and said: “You should try keeping deze abs up, I do crunches every morning and night, and I don’t eat no junk. Sometimes I think dat dis more work than it worth.” With that he started his methodical cleaning of the pool. Moving along the side of the pool, reaching high into the air and pushing the pole down the pool’s sloping sides. With each swing, his muscles heaved and quivered. That body was worth all the work it took to keep it perfect. He was a muscle god, and I wanted all that he had. My wet dream was right in front of me and I wanted to see that dream every morning when I woke up. Maybe Big Betty could give that to me. I left the pool and Tyrief. I was hard and I wanted some relief. I couldn’t do anything in public and I needed some privacy. I went back to my room and opened the door. Big Betty was there, sitting on the bed. “What the..” I said. She looked hard at me and said: “You got my money?” “Sure, “ I said. “You got Tyrief ready for me? He says that you want him to work for you, but that he refuses. How are you going to get him for me?” “Oh, Tyreif gonna work for me for a long time. It all ready to give you what he got, if you got da money, and you sure you want dat muscle-boy body and all dat go with it.” I had the money in the desk drawer. But I wondered if that was what I wanted. I walked toward the desk and looked out the window. The late afternoon sun was out and Tyrief was still at his work. The sheer beauty of the guy was breathtaking. His dark skin shown in the sun and each muscle was defined by the shadows from the sun. Up, down, up down. His wings worked in rhythm with his enormous guns. His legs swayed from side to side as he crept along the side of the pool. I wanted all of that, the muscle, the dark skin—I wanted my wet dream to be with me always. “You got the money?” Big Betty said again. I continued over to the desk and got the money. She watched the money and smiled as I walked over to her. “You sure you want dis, all dat Tyrief got? Dat a whole different life and mind. She said. I though her remark was odd. Of course I wanted Tyrief. As my pals always said you don’t fuck the brain, just the body and a night with that body was going to last a life-time in my memory. Wet dreams are best when they stay dreams. I just hoped that I had a Viagra left in my toilet kit. I thought that I’d left some in the pill case. “You sure you want dis? When it done, it done.” “Yeah—I want it; I want it all. When?” “Tonight; after Tyrief get off work and go home.” “I come back.” She took the money and smiled at me. It was creepy and a shiver ran down my back. Maybe Tyreif was right. Big Betty wasn’t someone to fool with. I took a hot shower and went down to dinner. The weather was great, and I ate out on the terrace. Handsome waiters everywhere; not just handsome, gorgeous. Great bodies, but you knew that they were just that—great bodies with no future. Trapped in the Dominican Republic, no education and eventually their pecs would sag. One cute guy smiled at me—I’d seen him before. I knew his type. Grab himself an old gay sugar daddy and then get himself out of this life while he was still pretty and his body held up. The thought of that life hit me—nothing ahead of you and everything tied to your looks. Basically, you were a slave to your body as the only chance that you had for a better life. I left without finishing my dinner and started up the stairs. My life wasn’t the greatest, but at least I had stuff to look forward to. And tonight that might just be Mr. Tyrief---and then back to New York tomorrow. Big Betty was at the top of the stairs. “Where you been?” She said. “Not much time, Tyrief like to get up early so he get to da gym.” “We gotta be done b’for he wake up or it not work.” “OK….” I said as I opened the door to my room. “Where is he?” Big Betty looked at me and smiled. She pulled a little bottle out of her pocket and said: “It right here.” “What?” “You drink dis and dat give you all that you want and all dat I want. Just drink it and I give you all dat Tyrief got. I give it to you right now.” She went over to the door and looked out. Tyrief must be outside, waiting for me I thought. “Drink it quick, and you get what you want.” Maybe I didn’t need the Viagra if Big Betty is giving me liquid poppers, I thought. I unscrewed the cap and tossed the stuff down. “OK” I said as I handed the bottle back to her. “You can bring Tyrief in now, I’m ready.” Big Betty turned and looked at me. “You silly,” she said. “What you want from Tyrief in de bottle.” “I mixed de hair I took from him dat first day I talked to you; with my want potion.” “Dat mixture and de Voodoo give you all dat you want, and I get what I want too. I need another muscle-man at my house for de old guys, now dat Carlos want to go with his sugar daddy. He not so young anymore and de all want de young ones.” She made no sense. But I was starting to feel odd. The room was getting dark and I was unsteady on my feet. “What’s going on?” I said. “You just getting all dat Tyrief has—but only one of you be here. It gotta be done before Tyrief wake up or it not work and you gone.” She grinned and started to laugh. The pain in my gut was unbearable and I sank to my knees. It was getting darker and I couldn’t keep my dinner down. I vomited and rolled over. I couldn’t move my legs. “What did you do to me?” I cried. “I just give you what you want. I see you tomorrow; remember, come see me just as soon as you wake up. Don’t go no where but to me. I in the big yellow house down by the harbor.” Then I blacked out.

I opened my eyes. The room was dark and Big Betty was nowhere to be seen. I lay on the bed for a few minutes while I got my wits about me. I was naked, and I never slept naked. Moreover, the room seemed odd. The sheets were rough—the hotel prided itself on ultra luxury sheets and I had noted that. I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. I took one step and fell over. Everything seemed wrong. I reached out for the bed to pull myself up and I hit a table. There isn’t a table near the bed in my room, I thought. Where the hell did Big Betty take me? I reached out for the bed, crawled over to it, but nothing was working like it should. “It must be what she drugged me with,” I thought. My legs were not going were I thought they normally should be. It was like they weren’t the legs I was used to. I hit the bed, reached across it and touched a wall. It was a single bed—not the king-sized bed in my room. “What the hell?” I thought as I pulled myself erect. As I glanced around, I could see a door to my left, and clothes piled on a chair near me. I began to walk toward the door, but I stumbled. My stride wasn’t as long as it should be—I was almost 6’2” and I took long strides, even if I was 60 and out of shape. I was taking baby steps now and my thighs were rubbing together. I widened my stance till my thighs stopped touching and slowly and carefully walked to the door. When I got to the door, I could see it was a tiny bathroom, about the size of a closet. The cheap sink was right in front of me. I moved carefully over to the sink. I seemed to be getting used to walking again. “God,” I thought, “how could you forget how to walk?” I reached the sink and turned on the water. I splashed cold water over my face and patted it dry with my hand—odd, my nose felt funny. Wider and flatter than normal, but it didn’t hurt. My lips felt odd too, thick and wide. “What the hell is going on—did Big Betty hit me in the face?” I looked up and could see the chain for the light over the dirty, stained sink. I reached up and yanked the chain. The single bulb lit up—no shade, just straight light from a 60 watt bulb. I looked straight ahead into the mirror and froze. My face—what the hell. That’s not my face. Dark skin, high cheek bones, a wide flat nose, flared nostrils, thick lips and the skin—deep, dark mocha brown, perfect without a wrinkle or a sag. Black dreadlocks fell around my neck. And then the thick traps swept away to the delts hanging on the corner of my shoulders. God, it was the pool guy’s face. “What’s going on?” I thought. And then I ran my fingers over my face just to feel. But, they weren’t my fingers. they were the pool guy’s thick, short muscular fingers. Tyrief’s fingers. I could see thick, wide wrists in the mirror too and I looked down at my forearms. They were dense, wide, enormous. The corded veins ran like ropes up to the biceps, and at my elbow they massed in a freaky knot. Fantastic. I felt my bi’s—they were like rocks. I looked in the mirror and made a muscle with my left arm. The two heads of the bicep were like mountain peaks. They must be 20 inches The man in the mirror held the muscles tense, and it was me in the mirror! I smiled and in the mirror you could see my white teeth flash against the dark skin. Beautiful. “What’s going on?” Just then I saw my chest in the mirror. Slabs of deep, dark chocolate muscle. And, those small perfect nipples. I looked again and the left nipple was pierced. A little sliver rod ran through the erect nipple head. I hadn’t noticed that before at the pool. I gently circled my nipples with my new thick fingers, and then gave each a long, hard squeeze. I could feel an instant surge of pleasure deep inside me and I began to get hard. “Hard?” I thought. Then it hit me, I was 20-year-old Tyrief. I had dreamed of playing with these nipples—I just didn’t think they’d be my nipples. I looked down between my legs to my crotch and there it was. 10 fat uncut inches. Better than I had imagined. I ran my fingers over my member and then felt my balls. They were huge. And, I was shaved—a real porn-star shave. I was stunned. What had Big Betty done? I didn’t get to fuck the pool guy tonight, I was the pool guy. My hand brushed down against my stomach and I felt them—my eight-pack. With the light from the 60 watt bulb I could just see all of my definition. I ran my fingers along each ab. I could feel the indentations and the ridges of my lower abs as they descended to my cock; I was getting hard again. “Christ, the ass,” I thought. I reached behind me with my new powerful paws and cupped my glutes. They were rock hard and supple. I massaged my ass, and then I ran my fingers along each curve of my glutes. No fat, just muscle, so the dimples of my ass were wide and deep. “My legs,“ I thought and I ran my new short, muscular fingers along the outside sweep of each thigh playing with my quads. Then down along the back of my leg, caressing the hard fat-free hams. Finally, up along my inner thigh, feeling the thick and hard adductors. “Geez.” No wonder my legs were rubbing together, my thighs are huge. Oh—it’s all of the squats Tyrief said he does. Man, he’s really built a fantastic body. And, with these wheels, squats must be his favorite movement now. I walked back into the bedroom. It was little and crowded. I was walking a little better—but my thighs still rubbed together and I had to remember to widen my stance with every step I took. It was odd too, my arms were riding high. Tyrief’s wings were so wide, I couldn’t lower my arms completely. Odd feeling, but I was sure I could get used to it. When I reached the other door to the room. I felt along the wall and hit the wall switch. Light flooded the room and I looked around. It was small and cheap looking, and dirty--it was a mess. Clothes everywhere; weights on the floor and a cracked, full-length mirror in the corner. This muscle man didn’t have any money, and it showed. But, he had this body, and that was worth more than money to me. I walked over to the mirror and stood in front of it. This gorgeous chocolate muscle boy looked back at me. There in all my naked glory was Tyrief, the pool guy. And, I was looking out of his dark brown eyes. I hit a double biceps pose in the mirror. My peaks were fantastic, and my dark naked body showed off every muscle of my abs. I turned sideways and did a side chest pose. The pec line was amazing and the sweep of my lats perfect. My raised leg showed off the tight sweep of my thigh. No wonder Tyrief thought that he’d win his next contest. I relaxed and then did a lat spread. The hood that my lats made in the mirror started to get me hard. I looked down and my thick member was swelling, totally naked without any pubic hair. I was 20 and horny. I reached down and took my cock in my new muscular hands. I spit in my hands, and then I began a methodical rhythm. I felt pleasure all over my body. I stroked my cock with one hand and pinched my dark nipples hard with the other. My cock head started to come out of the foreskin—my old body was cut, and it was totally a new experience to see the foreskin slide back to reveal the head. Shit, and what a head it was—large and dark jet black. Deeper chocolate than any part of this body that I’d seen. The head almost looked like rubber, it was so hard and shinny. I stroked the head, and I felt an instant surge of ultimate pleasure. I came quickly after that, and the gush of come juice flowed down my palm, glistening against its light caramel color, so different from the rest of me, like the dark mocha on the back of my massive hands. I turned my hand over to see my chocolate skin, and then back to see my caramel, almost creamy, palm. God, I was a chocolate Caribbean hunk with a perfect body—my wet dream. Big Betty really had given me all that Tyrief had. I’d come once in this chocolate muscle-boy body and I wanted to do it again, and again, and again. I needed to do as much with this body as I could before Big Betty switched me back. She didn’t tell me how long I’d get for the thousand dollars. It probably wasn’t long. I looked at the clock. It was 4 in the morning. Big Betty had caught me at my hotel room door at about 10 last night. Only 6 hours ago. Wonder what my Ben Stratton body was doing right now with Tyrief in it—probably still sleeping. But, it was Tyrief’s gym time and I was awake. I wonder, I thought. It had been years since I was in a gym—but I knew the movements and with this body I could hit the weights like I’d always wanted to. A gym bag lay by a pile of dirty clothes. Why not---I might as well enjoy this body while I have it. A workout would be great. But I was naked and I need to get dressed. Where the hell did Tyrief say he worked out? I picked up the gym bag and on the side I saw a bunch of letters, but I couldn’t make out what they said. Must be the light I thought, and I looked at the bag hard, but the letters were all a jumble to me. I could just make out a capital “D” and then it looked like an “e.” “Delaney’s.” Yeah, Tyrief had said it was Delaney’s down by the harbor. How hard could it be to find my gym—I thought it, my gym, not Tyrief’s gym. But I was Tyrief, at least for now until my time ran out and Big Betty switched me back. I looked around for something to wear. I opened a drawer in the chest and looked in. Wow, Tyrief must be a little kinky and its not just the porn-star shave. The drawer was full of latex and toys. Dildos, butt plugs, and leather straps. I picked up some of the latex. Shorts, with a cock sheath molded right in. Tit clips too. Maybe I’d get to play with this leather boy next trip I took down here—or maybe I could find one of his leather pals today while I was still in this body. I shut that drawer and pulled the next drawer open. It was full of thong underwear. Not the plain kind, but silk or stretch lycra. This guy knew how good he looked. I grabbed a dark blue lycra thong and held it in my hand. He sure loves dark blue, I thought. I raised one of my massive legs and put it through the leghole in the thong. I pulled the other hole open and slid my other thigh through it. As I pulled the thong up my legs and over my bubble-butt ass, I reached down and held up my balls and 10-inch cock. The thong felt so tight against my skin and my ass as I pulled it in place. I adjusted my balls and cock in the pouch and then looked in the mirror. God, I was beautiful, a perfect man. Taught naked muscle everywhere, dark chocolate skin, and the thong showed off my package perfectly, like a posing trunk. I was in heaven—kill me now God, I thought. I’m the man I always wanted to be. I reached over and grabbed a spandex T-shirt. I pulled the Tee over my head and down over my chest. It fit like a second skin and you could see the outline of my nipples through the thin fabric, nipple rod and all. The fabric was tight over my lats. I was getting hard again and my member pushed against the confines of the thong. I grabbed some shorts lying on the chair next to the bed, and I noticed leather chaps in the pile of clothes. Tyrief must really be into leather and latex, and that thought got me even harder. But before I put on the sandals that lay by the clothes pile, just for a few minutes I ran my fingers over my feet. Between each toe, and then over the heel to my Achilles tendon. You could feel the strength and then I ran my fingers up my leg to my calf. It was like a shield-shaped hockey puck, hard and oval. I could feel the corded veins circle my calf. What a perfect body, I thought again. I stood up and just for fun, I reached down and placed my palms flat on the floor. My hams felt great, so flexible and my tendons stretched with a satisfying pain. I grabbed the sandals and put them on. It was almost 4:30; I lunged at the gym bag, scored it and then strode out the door. I was still having to think about walking. These legs were just so massive and different. I started to jog, maybe that will get me oriented to this body I thought. But, I had to keep my stance wide. The harbor wasn’t far and I jogged off down the hill. The houses on each side of the street were just shacks. Nothing looked good—just poverty and disrepair everywhere. Each step was exciting, though. I could feel my quads pumping and it was great. Each massive muscle was moving in harmony and I began to swing my arms too. I could feel my inner tri’s rubbing against my lats and I was starting to get hard again. Damn, I thought, you forget how horny you were at 20. I saw a big guy walking just ahead of me and as I jogged past, he said: “Hey, Tyrief, wait up.” “You don’t want to get there before your training partner do you?” I stopped turned and looked at him. He was huge too—light- skinned, with almost blond hair, and taller than me—or rather teller than Tyrief. He was about my normal size—6’2”. And, he must be about my—Tyrief’s age: 20 or year younger. He walked over to me, punched me in the gut and said: “Let’s get moving, the sooner we get done, the sooner we get in the shower.” I followed him down the street and said: “What body part are we training today?” It was the first time that I’d spoken and my voice was weird—it wasn’t my voice. Then I remembered—I was Tyrief and I was using Tyrief’s vocal cords to talk. So—this must be what Tyrief’s voice sounded like to him, because it sure didn’t sound like the voice I had heard when Tyrief talked, Odd, the books always said the voice is different when you hear it on the inside and it sure was. I had much to learn about this body, and I was just starting. I thought Tyrief was just muscle to look at, but this body was more than that—brain, genetics, and lots of other things. What more did I need to learn about my new bundle of cells? This big guy was my training partner and I didn’t know his name or where the gym was. I thought I’d just follow along. But he turned to me with an odd look and said: “What ‘body part’ are we training today? You nuts, why you talk like dat.” We always train legs on Thursday; just like normal. Knock off the funny talk; you’d better hit those wheels hard today if you think dey gonna grow. You lost last year because you had puny legs—no definition.” That’s right, I thought. Tyrief’s training for a contest to get the prize money to go to New York. The body I saw in the mirror looking back at me just a few minutes ago in Tyrief’s room was almost contest ready, and I knew I’d have a chance to win—no, no. I know that Tyrief has a chance. Just then, we arrived at a dark building and the big guy pushed the door open. I looked up at the neon sign to make sure it was Delaney’s. But the letters were all jumbled up and I couldn’t make sense of the sign. But, the big guy had gone through the door, so I went in. As soon as I cleared the door you could see the front counter and the weight stacks beyond. I passed the counter following the big, light-skinned guy. The man at the counter said: “You and Enrique better check in.” I nodded. So, my training partner’s name is Enrique. At least I knew that much. Enrique’s Tyrief’s pal—the guy he said was going to get the pool job after Tyrief gets his new job. Enrique was moving across the gym floor toward another door and went through. I followed again and we were in the locker room. “Get changed,” Enrique said. “We late starting. Go on; I’ll get changed and meet you by the squat racks just as soon as I’ve gotten dressed and put my stuff away; I don’t want to wrinkle any of my clothes,” I said. I put my gym bag down and started to untie my shoe. Enrique just stared at me while I took my T-shirt off and folded it. I opened my gym bag and took out a pair of red compression shorts. I laid those on the bench and then pulled out a pair of gym shorts. I laid them carefully next to the folded T-shirt. I sat down and bent over the gym bag and peered in, holding my hands in my lap. Then I heard Enrique. “Hey man,” Enrique said. “What’s wrong with you? You talking and acting all funny, like one of those old queens at your hotel. And, you moving all kinda jerky. Don’t scare me like that—Pablo started acting like that in da gym last year, ‘fore he went to live at Big Betty’s place permanent. You know he never been the same since dat; dat why I started to train with you.” I froze. Maybe he could tell I wasn’t Tyrief, and I wasn’t. I was a 60-year-old queen in a chocolate jock boy’s body. And, I wasn’t used to it. Christ, I could hardly walk without rubbing my thighs together. I looked him straight in the eye and said: “I fine. I just be practicin’ to get a better job at the hotel. “Dez old guys tip good and if Big Betty let me be a waiter, and act all fine, I could make mo’ money.” I was going to have to watch my expressions and movements better, I needed to pass as a Dominican moreno until Beg Betty switched me back. Tyrief was a poor, low-class working boy, and I needed to remember that. Enrique laughed, punched me in my eight-pack and said: “Get dressed and then let’s hit the floor.” I picked a dark blue shirt out of the gym bag and looked at it. I had thought Tyreif was a little kinky and I was more sure of it now. The shirt was a skimpy muscle tank top. I put it on over my chest and looked in the mirror. It had thin spaghetti straps over my shoulders and showed off my huge traps and gigantic delts. The back straps were cut deep, and showed off my massive wings. The front neck line dipped low on my chest—just above my nipples. As I raised my arms, the top of the shirt dipped below my nipples, showing off the silver nipple ring perfectly. Tyrief sure know how good this body looked. I pulled on the red compression shorts—Under Armour stuff. Tyrief at least spent what little money he had on good gym wear. I took a look in the locker room mirror. Tiny, loose muscle tank over tight red compression shorts—quite a vision. Then I pulled the white cotton gym shorts on, socks and shoes. I was ready to try out this body—maybe a two-hour workout would make me less “jerky” in my movements. I didn’t want anyone else to suspect that I was not the hot dark muscle hunk that I appeared to be. Minutes later I stood in the squat rack with three plates on each side of the bar perched on my shoulders. I looked straight ahead into the gym mirror in front of the rack. Enrique was behind, ready to spot me. Sweat was running down the crack between my pecs, and my dreadlocks were tied behind my neck. I watched in the mirror as this huge chocolate muscle god lifted the bar off the rack, stepped back and positioned my legs to squat. I couldn’t believe that it was me. The pressure on my traps was strong, but it felt good and these traps were thick enough for twice this weight. I moved my glance upward to get into position, and then I started the first rep. The quads felt so good, I almost wet myself. I dropped down just to where the strain began on my adductors. I drove the weight up, paused and then started down again. My heart pumped and I felt like I was in heaven—that was a big theme with me right now—heaven, and I wanted God to leave me here. 15 reps done. Enrique took a set, we added two plates, and I started again. It seemed like only minutes, but Enrique and I had done 10 hard sets of 15 reps, and I could feel it. The last five sets had been hard, and I felt like I was going to puke I’d worked so hard. But, I didn’t want it to stop, I felt so good. Enrique smiled at me. I’d been watching his body throughout all of the sets, and I could see that he knew it. I wondered what the relationship was between Tyrief and Enrique—I could take it to another level if the light-skinned hunk would let me. “You a demon this mornin’,” Enrique said. “If you keep this up, you sure gonna come in first in the Caribbean Bodybuilding nationals.” I smiled, and I felt like a god. The blood was pumped into my legs—they were screaming at me. As I looked at my thighs in the mirror, I began to see that I still needed more size. I was only 20, and with the right drive and training, I could get bigger. Then I caught myself, Tyrief could get bigger. I wouldn’t be in this body much longer after I found Big Betty, and I wouldn’t have the two or three years it would take for these quads to hit the next level. That would be Tyrief’s job, if he wanted to do it. I’d be long gone, and back in New York. Maybe he’d qualify for a contest in the States—I’d get a ticket to see just what he’d done with these wheels. Enrique and I moved on to hacks, then leg extensions, sitting presses, standing presses, the butt blaster and then standing leg curls. As I pulled the weight up on the leg-curl machine, I ran my hand down my hams. It wasn’t good form, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted to feel the tight surface of my hams as they struggled to lift the weight up and to slowly lower it down. I felt so good now, moving with my body. As we started calves, I couldn’t even remember what Enrique and I had done as we moved around the gym, taking extra reps at each set. I looked over to my left at the guy doing lat pull-downs. He had quite a taper from his shoulders down. As he pulled the bar down, you could tell he knew what he was doing. Slow methodical movements, a squeeze to the shoulder blades and back up. He let the bar go and let his straps unwrap. He turned and I saw his face—it was the waiter from last night at dinner. I hadn’t notice his body before, and it was great—not massive though, more like a fitness model. Slender, fat-free and total muscle. His waiter’s outfit had hidden his beauty. He caught my eyes, stared straight at me, shook his head and laughed. No emotion, just a shrug and he went back to the lat pulls, slowly wrapping his straps around the bar. Enrique saw me looking, and said: “Pablo, he changed so much since last year when he went to live a Big Betty’s.” “He train real hard, but he keep to himself now, never want to go out wid me like he used to, just meet me here at de gym to train.” Odd—I wonder how many other guys from the hotel workout here? Just then, Enrique said: “Let’s finish it off with some curls.” We both went over to the weight rack and picked up the dumbbells. I grabbed two 75 lbs. rubber knurled weights, took the stance and watched my bi’s in the mirror in front of me. I needed perfect form, and I was getting it. As I gazed into the mirror I watched a beautiful chocolate bicep move—and it was my bicep. A massive chocolate mountain on an arm corded with veins. I watched my face smile, and the high cheek bones gave me a great look. I was gorgeous—for the first time in my life. I wanted to keep it. I noticed that a guy was staring at me. He was a tall, chocolate muscle boy too. A little older than Tyrief, maybe 27 or 28. He was as stunning as me—or rather Tyrief. Just a little older, a little thicker and a little more massive. Probably what I—Tyrief, would look like after another few years of training. He was sitting on a bench and must have just put the bar back into the stand after bench pressing. He motioned to me as I put the 75’s down. I walked over. “I see she got you,” he said. “You gonna have to play along with her, do what she sezs, or it be real bad for you.” “What are you talking about,” I said. “I’m just training like normal, and who is she?” “You may fool some of de guys in here, but not me and not Pablo or de other guys from de hotel, we know you not de old Tyrief. She say she gonna get you when you check into de hotel and she gonna keep you, like me, till she done with you. I be Carlos now—I can hardly remember who I was before. Dis body was the pool boy before Tyrief. But, I’m outta here soon, I did my time with her. After a couple years in dat body, you’ll forget who you were too. You start being just dis guy in dat body, who you be now. Tyrief be my replacement, you need to start lookin’ for yours.” He stood up abruptly and walked away. I had no idea what the guy was talking about, but Enrique walked up to me right then. “Come on we been here way to long, an extra hour,” he said. “We gotta shower and get to work; we got no time to eat. Big Mike’s ready for us; we gotta get a hit.” I followed the big guy toward the locker room. God, he had a great ass. I wondered how long Enrique and Tyrief had been pals and training partners, I hoped there was more. We got into the locker room and stripped off our clothes. I was still impressed by the size of my cock. The porn star shave really showed me off, and I noticed that Enrique was looking my way. I put a towel around my waist and stood up. Just then, Big Mike came through the locker room door. He held two syringes and some white boxes. He came over toward me, ripped open one of the boxes and took out a glass vial. A paper fell out of the box at my feet. I touched my puffy chocolate areolas and knew what I had suspected was true. This body wasn’t this big all by itself. Big Mike must be my connection—but this was the Dominican Republic and things were different here. Besides, I thought, if I was Tyrief, I’d want to get as big as possible any way I could. I lived one life, and if I had it to do again, I’d benchpress my brains out, stick whatever I could in me to stay huge like I was now, and then check-out at 30. Life was better in a huge, handsome body. Everything after that was a letdown. I picked up the paper that had dropped from the box of dec that Big Mike had taken the glass vial from. I started to read it. But, something was wrong. I could see the lines fine—not blurry or out-of-focus. However, the letters were all jumbled up and didn’t make any sense. Half of them were backward and the rest just ran together. What was going on? “Hey,” said Enrique. “Gimme dat. You can’t make no sense of dat stuff, you never could. Dat’s why you quit school, remember—all dat laughing when you tried to read. I’ll read it to you like I always do if you need to know it, but it’s de same shit we get every two days and I told you about it before. Dis isn’t de new shit that we gonna try in de next cycle.” I looked at Enrique and it hit me, the gym bag, the sign on the gym and now the paper. God—Tyrieff couldn’t read. The jumbled and backward letters. He must be dyslexic or something, and he wasn’t very bright either. No wonder he dropped out of school if the kids were laughing at him. Probably no remedial program at the school. What Caribbean nation spent money on poor chocolate kids—that’s why I—he, began lifting. Only way out was sports of some kind, and with this body the obvious way was body-building. He said he’d come in second in his last contest. And at 20, in a few years he’d his full size, but he was always going to be dumb and with a learning disability too. Not much of a future. Too bad for the kid. Shit, I was the kid. I couldn’t read, I not only had Tyreif’s muscles, I had his brain too. What the hell else bad went with this body? This wasn’t good. Maybe I’d see what I could do for this big, dumb guy after Big Betty switched me back. “Get over here and bend over,” said Big Mike and he motioned me to the bench. I walked over, dropped the towel around my waist and lay over the bench. Big Mike took the syringe and filled it from the glass vial in his hand. He held the vial up to the light and pulled the oil into the syringe. After it was full, he changed the drawing needle for the smaller needle, pushed out the air and went right to my ass. He rubbed my hard glute with alcohol and then stuck the needle in. I felt it go deep, and Big Mike drew back to make sure he hadn’t hit a vein. When he was sure, he pushed the plunger hard and I felt the oil flow deep into my glute muscle, taking the dec with it. “There,” he said. “Now it’s Enrique.” I moved off the bench. I could see myself in the locker room mirror, and I turned to get a shot of my ass. A small trickle of blood ran down my glute, not much. I felt the smooth texture of the skin on my glute and pressed my short, thick finger into the muscle. I could feel the little hard pearl that the oil and dec had made deep in the muscle. It would take a few days for all of it to be absorbed by my body. It would help me grow and I was strangely happy about it, I wanted to be as huge as I could get. I’d always wanted that. But, Big Betty would switch me back before that happened. Big Mike had finished with Enrique and he said to both of us: “You only have three shots left in this cycle and we should lay off for three weeks before the next. That cycle is gonna be longer and more expensive. You boys got the money?” Enrique told him we would get it, just like we had before. Enrique walked off toward the shower, and I followed. I walked into the shower stall and turned on the water, extra hot I thought. I’d never washed this body and I was looking forward to exploring all of me. Only four hours into this adventure and I’d experienced at lot. Give me many memories to think about after Big Betty switched me back. As the hot water flowed down my pecs, I felt like melting. The workout had drained me. My legs were screaming and my arms ached from the curls and dips. As I let the water flow down my chest, over my abs and onto my cock, I felt a kiss at the base of my neck, and two arms reach around me. “Hey lover, that was a bitchin workout. I never see you train legs that hard.” It was Enrique, and his two hands had clamped down on my member and my balls. His tongue was in my ear. “Enrique,” I said. As I mentioned his name, one of his hands left my cock and a finger pushed hard and deep up my ass. The pleasure was intense and I shuddered. “Dat’s right, buddy. It’s shower time when you and me get together. I need to thank you for getting me de job at the hotel. I watch you all de time when we train, and today it’s different, I know dat you want me right now, and it time. Dis is just the start. I stop by tonight when you get back from work.” And, he left the shower. So much had happened since last night, I sat down on the shower shelf and took a moment to think. I glanced down at my mocha quads. I flexed the muscle and watched it quiver. “Beyond marvelous,” I thought. Then I realized if I was in this chocolate muscle hunk, then Tyrief must be in my body. “God, “ I thought, “what were Tyrief and Big Betty doing with my body. Nobody at the hotel knew it wasn’t me. All of my business stuff was in the hotel room drawers. Big Betty could be cleaning out all of my bank accounts right now. I’d been playing too long with the body in the gym. It was almost 9 am, and the Dominican Republic was on the same time as New York. The markets opened in half an hour. My broker had an office in Santiago, which was not far from here. Tyrief in my body could be dumping all of my accounts. No wonder Big Betty wanted me in this body. She’d take my money, then switch me back into my body. Everyone at the hotel would swear I’d taken the money out of my accounts, the local broker would too. They probably had videos. And, it was my body that would be in those videos. It would just be Tyrief inside doing what Big Betty told him to. She was clever. She knew that this muscle hunk body would be too much for me not to play with. And, she was right. I’d fallen for it. Jacked off, worked out, and got groped in the shower. It was good, but it wasn’t worth all that I’d worked for. She’d switch me out of this chocolate god, and then I’d be a poor, old queen. I had to stop her. I needed to get to the hotel. I left the shower and hurried into the locker room to get dressed. Enrique was there, he was ready to get dressed, but we were still both naked. Nobody else was in the locker room. Enrique came over to me and said: “I’ve got to get out of here and you need to be at work. Do a good job on the pool.” He grabbed me into his arms, then cupped my right glute in one of his hands. With a hard squeeze to my ass, he kissed me and drove his tongue, hard. down my throat. As worried as I was about what Big Betty was doing with my body, this 20-year-old body responded immediately. My cock sprang to life pressing hard into Enrique as he held me tight to him, and I lunged my tongue down Enrique’ throat. I sucked hard and wanted more. I was harder than I ever been in my life and I felt totally different. I wanted Enrique’s hard, muscled body in my arms. I wanted to fill him with my cock and I couldn’t stop myself. This was different—not me, someone else. My body wanted relief and I wanted Enrique. I spun Enrique around and ran my finger over his ass. He moaned, bent slightly over and spread his cheeks. I was so totally horny that I forget everything, I took my thick short fingers and guided my cock into him. He braced against me, and I slowly thrust my cock into his ass. I pressed hard, and he gave way, letting me slide into him. My hands moved to Enrique’s back, his shoulders and then his nipples. Enrique stroked his own balls, while I rhythmically pumped into him. The pleasure spread throughout my body. Pleasure as I had never felt before. “God,” I thought. “It had only been a two hours since I’d jacked off with this body and I was totally jacked and ready to go again.” The pleasure keep mounting all over my body, into every nerve, and I came inside Enrique with a shudder. The feelings that came with this muscle-hunk body were extraordinary. I collapsed over Enrique’s back. He turned to me, and I could see the cum juice dripping from his hands. His face smiled, and he kissed me again. “Tonight. lover man, tonight.” he said. He let me go, quickly got dressed, grabbed his gym bag and left through the door. I stood there naked, with a growing hard on. I was ready to go again. I wondered how bad it could be to just keep this body and have this young stud’s life. Maybe I should just leave Big Betty alone and see how far I could get away from here with this body. Not too far with no money, I realized. And, with this brain, I wouldn’t be able to get much of a job to earn money. Not much for a dumb muscle boy to do without a sugar daddy to pay for the gym time and drugs. I dressed rapidly, stuffing the gym clothes into my gym bag. I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice and act like an old queen with this muscle hunk body. It didn’t take me long to get to the hotel. I started up the hill from the harbor toward the hotel. As I walked, I realized that I wasn’t tired like the last time I make this trip. Hell, the last time I was a 60-year-old man. I began to run and tossed the gym bag over my shoulders. As I felt on the way to the gym, my legs were pumping, and I could feel the air surge into my young lungs, I could feel my heart beating too—strong and regular. Tyrief must do a lot of cardio. I thought. I’m not winded at all, and I feel like I could push it. I started to sprint and my legs pushed out straight in front of me. Too bad there aren’t any hurdles, and then I spotted a fence just in front of the hotel. I ramped up and tried it. My body soared over the fence and I landed hard on the other side. Directly in front of the hotel. I’d made it, and I was running this body like I’d been born in it and lived in it all of my life. Too bad I’d soon be back in my old body. This was getting to be fun. I looked around at the front of the hotel. There was quite a commotion, people everywhere. A police car and an ambulance. I took the gym bag off my shoulder and walked over to one of the policemen. “What’s going on?” I asked. The Dominican policeman looked me up and down, and then said: “Nothing your kind need to concern yourself with, get along with you.“ “This hotel isn’t for morenos like you.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying. Nobody ever talked to me like that before. Tyrief didn’t have to put up with this, did he? Not with a muscle body like this. I turned to the policeman and said: “Hey, what’s going on.” The policeman turned and looked angry. He said: “I told you to get away, moreno.” “You don’t move now and I take you in.” I didn’t know what to do, I had to get in to see Big Betty; besides, Tyrief had to get to work. Work, that’s it. “Hey Mon,” I said. “I work here, I clean de pool.” “Then go over there and use the staff entrance.” “That’s were moreno trash like you go in.” I should have known, the staff entrance. But, trash like me? That wasn’t right, Tyrief was beautiful, I was beautiful. But, apparently only light-skinned muscle gods went in by the front door. As I got to the staff entrance, a few waiters were milling about. I asked them what had happened. One of them said: “Some old queen from New York died.” “Happens every few years.” “Big Betty found him, she always does.” “Heart attack.” “Been dead for hours, since late last night.” “Stone cold.” “I saw him, he was all black and blue, mottled.” “He one dead guy.” “He name Ben Stratton." The name hit me. It couldn’t be, I wasn’t dead. I was right here, and I needed to get back to my real body, my money and my life in New York. My plane was leaving this afternoon, and I meant to be on it. All of this would be a nightmare I would soon forget. I turned and ran down the service corridor at the back of the hotel. I slamed open the door at the end of the hallway and fell over a gurney being pushed by two paramedics. I’d pushed through the door so fast—I forgot how strong this body was—that I turned over the gurney and landed on the floor with the whole mess on top of me. I tried to get up and pushed the heavy pile off my chest. It was hard and cold, and the cover fell off. Christ—I was staring at my face, and it didn’t look good. I felt the skin, stone cold and hard. What was going on? One of the paramedics yanked me up to my feet. He was angry. “What you doing you stupid Moreno.” “You made a mess and now you’re gonna help clean it up.” He turned the gurney upright and then motioned to me. “Grab his feet and lift him up.” I couldn’t believe what I heard, he wanted me to grab my dead body and hoist it onto the gurney. The other paramedic hit me in the back and said: “Moreno, I’d do what he says or we’ll have to take you in.” The reality of the situation was beginning to sink in. Ben Stratton was dead, and I was now the pool guy, a working-class moreno, someone to order around. I grabbed my ankles, no they were Ben Stratton’s ankles. But, I was Ben Stratton. I grabbed the dead guy’s ankles and on the count of three, the paramedic and I lifted the dead guy onto the gurney. God, he was heavy—no, I was heavy. The paramedic bent down to get the cover, and before he could cover the body I got a real good look. That was my face, my body. I ran my hands over the arms. They were rigid and cold. Dead. The paramedics covered my body and with a nasty look to me, they motioned to the door I’d just come through. “Hold that open, moreno.” One of them said to me. With that they went through the door taking my body with them. “Christ, what was going on? I needed to find Big Betty, fast. I ran toward the main hotel, toward the main dining room. At the door to the main dining room, the waiter from last night and the gym this morning, Pablo, was standing at the maître de station. He saw me, scowled, and motioned me over. I ran to him. “You better stop this,” Pablo said. “You’re gonna make Big Betty mad and screw it up for us all.” “What’s going on?” I cried. “Shut up, you’ll cause a scene. Big Betty will tell you everything. But, I won’t let you fuck this up. I been in this body six years, and just as soon as my replacement is ready, Big Betty gonna let me go.” “What the hell…who are you?” “Just like you. I came down here to find some chocolate hunk to sleep with. I met Big Betty and before I new it, I was the chocolate hunk.” “But who are you,” I asked. “I don’t remember anymore.” He said. “I’m this guy—this muscle boy, working out everyday and fucking old gay guys every night. That’s me now, and I like it. fine. I found me an old sugar daddy, and after my replacement is ready, I gonna go to my daddy in New York.” “Your replacement, who’s your replacement?” “You kidding? It’s Enrique, Tyrief’s training partner. I’ve been bring him along for four years, getting him bigger and more defined, just like Carlos did with Tyrief. We found you both at the same time at the gym—teenagers. Big Betty wants some light-skinned ass here now to go with all this dark chocolate. She’ll tell you what she wants you to find for your replacement when the time comes.” I didn’t know what to do—I couldn’t be stuck in this body. I needed to get back to New York and my life. I wasn’t planning to live the life of a poor, dumb muscle-head. What would I do? Big Betty came up behind me and grabbed by shoulders. “Where you been? I told you last night to come direct to me this morning. You gonna mess this up if you not careful.” “What did you do to me?” I cried. “I gave you what you wanted. Dat beautiful muscle-boy body. And, now you gonna give me what I need.” “I have to get out of here; I need to talk to the police or a doctor or somebody.” I said. “You got to talk to nobody but me. You Tyrief now and will be from now on. You talk to anybody about dis, and dey think dat you crazy. Lock you up and waste dat body in jail or worse. You stay here, work in de hotel and someday you can go. Just like Carlos. Find you a new life wid dat beautiful body.” “I won’t do it,” I said. Big Betty’s whole face changed, mean. She looked straight into my eyes and said: “You don’t do it, then I put somebody else in dat body. And, you be gone just like the old Tyrief.” “What?” I said. “Only one soul can live with the Voodoo change. The other is sacrifice. You be de next sacrifice if you don’t do what I tell you to. Life be fine in dat body if you play along with me.” Big Betty said. “What’s happened; why did you do this to me?” I said. “You wanted it bad or it would not have worked. De voodoo strong, but you had to want dat body for de potion to work. I need your soul in dat strong, young body to give de old gay guys what de pay for. You know just what you wanted before and now you have de body to give it to de old guys.” “Dis hotel mine now. I met de old gay queen who owned it—I saw him looking at de young men. I ask him what he give me if I give him a new body—one o de young men working at dis hotel. He tell me he give me de hotel and dat night I give him de young, chocolate body he want. He fuck every old guy at de hotel for de next week. He tell me dat we should keep de old guy happy and we make a fortune. He find two more old guys dat would stay and work if we change dere bodies with de young guys dat work at de hotel. Dey all happy and I make money. But, after a while dey forget dey old lives and just become different—dey think of themselves as de young man and dey don’t work as well with de old guys. I figure out dat I need to keep putting de old into the young body to keep de guest coming back. I let dem go to live dere new lives, and de all find some old queen to take dem away. Dat what happened with Carlos, and he find you to go in dat body.” “You Tyrief now, and you got all dat he had. Dat body muscled and hung, but you not very smart now. When you find your daddy to take you away, you better look for a smart one—you not gonna do well by yourself. And, you need to find me a new body for de future when you go. Start looking at de gym for a young guy like Carlos did. Train him—Carlos did real well with Tyrief. I can pay for whatever you need for de boy to grow. You one of de muscle hunks now for de guests—I need a muscle hunk as a replacement. De odder guys find replacements for de bodies. I cater to all types here and I need young body for each fantasy dat de old queens got.” Big Betty looked at me up and down, taking in all of my beauty. “Damm,” she said. “Dat body is perfect—I gonna be sorry to let you go in a few years. Don’t think dat you ever find a replacement as fine as you. You gonna make me lots of money wid dat face and de muscles. And, wid dat dick, you gonna make all de old queens scream. Now get to work. You Tyrief now and dat pool need to be cleaned. You late already.” Big Betty started to laugh, deep and long and looked at me with her eyes narrow and set. “Git along, Moreno. Your new life has just started.” She left me near the dining room and I knew that I was screwed. My old body was dead, and this life was all that I would have. I didn’t doubt that she would get rid of my soul if I didn’t play along. This body was too beautiful for her to waste and she needed to work it while it was young. She’d find another occupant for these chocolate pecs if I didn’t work out. And, given my choices at the moment, keeping these pecs and this eight-pack was what I wanted to do. I walked back towards the pool and saw Carlos looking at me. He smiled, nodded, and made a muscle with his arm. He laughed and walked away. He knew that I was stuck and that now he could leave with me as the new muscle god for the old guys to worship and play with. And, I knew just what those guys would want from this body—with this horny, chocolate muscled body, I’d be lucky if I didn’t give one or two of them heart attacks when I fucked them. I opened the pool hut door and walked in. I sat on the bench and thought about what Big Betty had told me. The Ben Stratton body was dead and with it my former life. I was stuck in Tyrief—hunky, dumb Tyrief. No brain, just a body, a low-class, moreno body—but what a body. As I looked up to the hut’s wall, the pool boy’s dark blue swim trucks, my trunks, were hanging on a peg. I reached up for them and then stared at them in my new muscular hands. “These are mine now,” I thought. I might not be that smart anymore, but I knew how good this Tyrief body looked in these dark blue trunks. I would need to remember that and work it to my advantage if I ever wanted to get away from Big Betty. What the hell was I going to do? My old life was gone. But, it was time to change and then clean the pool. I’d think about it later, after my night with Enrique. I might as well enjoy his perfect body until Big Betty stuck some old guy in that light-skinned hunk. I wonder who she’d picked for him—any old geezer would be happy with a young hunk’s body like that. Too bad I couldn’t tell Enrique what was in store for him—probably very soon. Maybe if I could, he’d fuck the hell out of this body while he still had the chance. I doubt the new occupant of that hunk-boy body would know what to do with it for the first few days—just like me. I’d have to teach him, I thought. And, that put smile on my face. I’d teach him very quickly how to use his new body—mostly to pleasure me. I needed to change, so I stripped. God, my cock was huge. It would take a while to get used to seeing it every time I stripped. I pulled the dark blue swim trunks up over the massive quads and my tight, gorgeous dark-brown ass. I tied the waist string around my narrow, fat-free 30-inch waist. I looked down at my crotch, at the outline of my member pressed hard against the dark blue trunks. “Funny,” I thought, “these trunks really show off exactly what they were designed to conceal.” I reached my massive new hands backwards and caressed my ass. It was hard and tight like I knew Tyrief’s ass, my ass now, would be. I’d wanted to stroke these dark blue trunks and this ass, and I was. I just hadn’t thought that it would be my ass that I was stroking. I picked the pool hose up and slide it over my arm. Yesterday I couldn’t pick up my suitcase and today my massive arms and back made any manual chore easy. Big Betty was right, I was a dumb, dark chocolate jock boy now, with no future unless I played along with her and did what she wanted. I’d gotten all that Tyrief had, just as she’d promised. Sure, the muscles were fantastic, but the brain was not firing on all cylinders which wouldn’t be good for finding work as more than a pool guy or a rent boy. Maybe I’d turn out like Carlos. 6 or 7 years as a rent boy, find my replacement, and then off with a sugar daddy who didn’t mind dumb muscle. I could get money that way. At least you’d have a few years on your own and I’d still have this body—she wouldn’t give it to someone else after I’d gotten into my late 20s. She only wanted young bodies, with an old gay guy inside. With this body, I had what these old queens wanted and with my old-guy memories, I knew exactly what they wanted without asking. Just what my pals had told me this hotel’s reputation was. Now I knew first hand how Big Betty and the hotel kept that reputation. It might not be so bad. Sure, I didn’t have the money that I had in New York when I was Ben Stratton. But that body was dead and if I showed up with this face to my bank or my broker in New York, I’d never get any of my money or my stocks. They wouldn’t even let me in my apartment with this dark chocolate body—however freaky muscled I was. If I thought Dominicans like that policeman were hard on a low-class moreno boy, New York would be 100 times worse . Life as a poor, dumb chocolate jock in the States would not be good, even if I could find Tyrief’s birth certificate and get a passport. I didn’t even know where I was born, what school I went to, who my parents were, or even if I had a driver’s license. Big Betty would fill in all of that. Besides, I had this great young body now. I had a second chance. I’d always wanted to be a muscle head, a freak. Being deep, dark chocolate was fine as a muscle boy—all of the recent Mr. Olympia contestants in the States had been black—some of them had come from the Dominican Republic and I was a Dominican moreno muscle boy now. I’d get used to it. This body was perfect to get me there and I was only 20, just starting on the years that could turn me huge. I could train like I always wanted to train, and I had the body to do it now—I could become the freak leather muscle daddy that I always dreamed of. What had Carlos said? Yeah—eventually your forget who you used to be and you start just being this guy, who you are now. Maybe I could just become Tyrief, and leave Ben Stratton far behind me. If I trained hard this summer, I’d get to compete in the Caribbean nationals and I knew that I could win, from there I could get back to the States. I thought about how I’d thrown the weights around at the gym this morning, and I wasn’t even sore now. That was only a few hours ago. I’d train and diet and pose like any dumb jock. Odd, I thought, I’d actually become my wet dream—a horny, freaky muscled dark chocolate guy. The only problem now was that I couldn’t fuck myself, just look at me in the mirror. I guess I’ll still be frustrated, even with these pecs and this ass. I grabbed the pool pole, brush and vacuum head, then walked through the pool hut door out to a new life. As I approached the pool to begin my duties as Tyrief, I noticed someone in the lounge chair I had used each day to stare at Tyrief and this magnificent body. He was fat and old, staring at me now. “Christ,” I thought, “did I look that bad to Tyrief?” A shiver ran down my spine. But, he kept watching me as I walked to the edge of the pool and laid the pool kit down. I knew how good I looked and I decided to give him a show. The dark blue swim trunks were as tight as ever, and I turned by back to him so that he could see the full glory of Tyrief’s ass—my ass. I bent over and moved the hose to the side of the pool and attached it to the filter. I squeezed my glutes hard so that the full effect was obvious. With my back still turned, I shook my head so that the dreadlocks fell over my shoulders, reached back and moved the dreads so that my traps and delts were perfectly displayed. Grabbing the pole, I moved the brush up and down the side of the pool, lifting my arms high. My wings popped out, and the sun hit the chocolate skin covering my guns. I knew the biceps were killer at this angle. I turned; he was still leering at me, but quickly looked away. I put the pool brush down, walked over to him and sat down on the lounge chair next to him---keeping my legs spread wide as I sat so that the full effect of my package was on display. God bless these tight dark blue trunks. Christ, he was fat, old and not attractive—plain ugly. He didn’t look like he’d ever been anything else. I locked eyes with his and said: “Hey, Mon, I’m Tyrief.” He just looked at me, mouth open. “Steve,” he said, not really sure of what to do. “You work here?” I looked straight at him with my dark brown eyes and said: “Sure, Mon. That’s why I do the pool. I’m here everyday, and some of the nights too.” If I was going to be Tyrief, I was at least going to speak proper English from now on—that much this brain could process. He reached out and put his hand on my thigh. It was fat, hairy, pasty white—age spots all over. But, the four gold rings, the square-cut ruby, and the two emerald-cut diamonds told me he had lots of money. He was staring at me, and I noticed that his gaze was not in my face but straight at my pecs—and right at the shinny silver nipple rod. My pecs were so massive, I looked like I had cleavage and I now knew what the gals meant when they said “Hey, my face is up here.” Just for fun, I twitched my pec muscles. I thought the guy was going to have a heart-attack. He started to drool. He was plain ugly, and he started to move his hand up my thigh toward my crotch. The pasty white hand moving up my rock-hard thigh was in high contrast to the deep, dark chocolate skin of my thigh, and I wanted more. I was a chocolate muscle man now, and I liked it. My member was stirring, and I was surprised how fast my 20‑year‑old body responded to any stimulation. He looked straight at me and said: ”I’d like to spend some time with you while I’m here.” I flashed him a smile with my bright white teeth, put my thick fingers over his and moved his hand over my rock-hard member so that he could feel me through the dark blue swim trunks. “Sure, I said, when?” And I knew at that moment that Big Betty was right. I was going to make her a lot of money.

89 notes · View notes