Becoming the Man of the House Ch. 04

This story is told through the point of view of four characters: Americans Aaron (23) and Eric (28), Swedish Thomas (38) and Colombian Leo (23). Each section indicates the narrator.

Read the chapter 1 here: https://literotica.com/s/becoming-the-man-of-the-house-1

LEO

At 7:45 am, I arrived at The Viking's Temple, the gym owned by my coach, Thomas. As I walked in, I noticed Aaron behind the reception desk. He greeted me with a forced smile, his eyes betraying a hint of resentment. I couldn't help but recall the events of last night when I fucked his best friend, Hamid. It seemed that Aaron still harbored feelings for me, despite me ignoring the majority of his messages.

Undeterred by Aaron's reaction, I continued on, making my way towards the training area. Thomas caught sight of me, and a smile spread across his face. He knew I had been absent the entire night. Sensing a conversation brewing, I approached him.

"Good morning, man," I greeted him, returning his smile.

"Ah, there you are," Thomas replied, his voice filled with warmth. "You're looking refreshed today. Everything alright?"

I chuckled softly. "I had a bit of a great night. Needed some time away, you know? But I'm ready to get back into training."

Coach Thomas nodded knowingly; his gaze filled with understanding. "Sometimes, a change of scenery can do wonders for the mind and body. Later, at home, I wanna hear the details. Are you prepared to train hard?"

"I am," I assured him, appreciating his supportive nature. "I'm here to give it my all." The gym had always been a place where I pushed myself to new limits. I hoped that today's session would help clear my mind and refocus my energies.

Thomas was a towering figure, with a muscular frame, a thick beard, and an abundance of tattoos that adorned his skin. He was the epitome of strength and determination, owning his presence like a true Viking warrior. The Viking's Temple was not just a gym; it was a sanctuary where iron and sweat forged jocks.

I looked up to Thomas, not just because he was my mentor, but also because he had earned his place through sheer hard work and dedication. Deep down, I knew that my own journey would eventually lead me to challenge his status. My muscles grew, and my physique took on a form that was beginning to rival Thomas'. But this change was not lost on him. The fear of being surpassed by his own protégé was evident.

When he learnt my cock was much bigger than his own, a new chapter began in our relationship. We were both 100% tops, competing for the same audience, both wanting to fuck each other in the ass. There was an undeniable attraction. He was much more experienced than I was, better known, with an unshakable reputation. All that and he had the hottest ass I had ever seen, but versatility was out of question.

On that day I joined him for our intense chest and triceps training session at The Viking's Temple. We began with a series of push-ups, the floor beneath us supporting our weight as our muscles engaged with each repetition. I could feel the veins in my arms and chest rising to the surface, like intricate roadmaps guiding the flow of blood within me. The muscles bulged beneath my gym clothes, which I had borrowed from Eric this morning.

Moving on to the bench press, as I settled beneath the bar, Thomas took his position directly behind me, ready to act as my spotter should I need assistance lifting the heavy weight above my chest. I gripped the bar tightly and began pushing upwards, grunting heavily as I lifted the weight until my arms shook with effort. With Thomas providing encouragement and moral support, I continued pressing upward, determined to set a personal best record during this routine.

However, halfway through my third rep, I noticed a curious expression flicker across Thomas' face. Glancing down, I saw that the shorts I was wearing were stretched thin by the immense bulk of my thighs and groin, causing my briefs to strain precariously against my flesh. It formed a very generous bulge, much beyond what could reasonably pass as average human size.

Despite Thomas telling me before "I don't care for dicks, only mine", I noticed his eyes frequently darted towards my crotch area, sometimes filled with confusion or envy, almost like he felt sad not possessing such size himself. Seeing the effect my cock had on him, I had to control myself not to get an erection right then and there. It would be a little embarrassing as those shorts could not contain the size of it hard.

In contrast to his usual unyielding and confident behavior, Thomas seemed to falter. I noticed a slight tremble in his hands as he spotted me, his gaze fixed on my every lift. It was as if he recognized the threat I posed to his long-held position as the Alpha. The unspoken tension between us grew more palpable with each set, heightening the rivalry that simmered beneath the surface.

He asked for a five-minute break. I took the opportunity to answer a message from Eric, Aaron's boyfriend, who I had finally met the night before. Five years older than me, I thought Eric was a nice guy, with some potential for us to be friends. He proposed a business partnership that I thought would be very profitable for me. In a town with men of Thomas' caliber, Eric was relegated to a secondary role. But he had his qualities and could be a good sidekick.

Thomas came back looking more relaxed. He had splashed water on his face. We transitioned to triceps exercises, focusing on overhead extensions and dips. As we concluded our training session, both of us drenched in sweat, our chests heaving with exertion, Thomas and I exchanged a nod of acknowledgement. The camaraderie that had once defined our bond now mingled with a newfound sense of rivalry.

I said goodbye to him, wanting to go home, eat something and take a shower. But I was surprised by his reply: "I am going with you. I took the day off." We would return home at the same time. By motorcycle, he arrived earlier.

As soon as we entered the house, Thomas showed me a box placed on top of a table, containing bottles of water, energy drinks, bars, supplements, and pre-cut fruits ready to refuel after a tough session. Close to the window, there was another table holding several containers filled with cooked food, all perfectly balanced macronutrients meals designed to repair damaged muscles. In the kitchen cupboard, a pitcher filled with frothy protein milkshakes made from fresh dairy, natural sweeteners, and powdered supplements promising fast muscle growth.

When we finished drinking the protein shakes, Thomas took me to my room. Just the night before, while I was gone, he had installed a giant mirror so I could practice posing. He took off his tank top and asked me to take mine off. His chest was absurd, even bigger than mine.

In front of the mirror, I stood alongside Thomas as he taught me the art of posing. His body was a testament to years of dedication and hard work, every muscle perfectly sculpted. I watched in awe as he effortlessly transitioned from one pose to another, commanding the mirror with his presence.

"Watch closely, Leo," Thomas said, his voice authoritative. "This is how you emphasize the chest. Stand tall, shoulders back, and flex your pecs." I mimicked his movements, trying my best to replicate his powerful stance. Thomas nodded approvingly, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pride and a hint of something else. It was as if he wanted to convey his superiority, to remind me that I still had a long way to go.

"These poses will be the foundation of your routine," he continued, his voice carrying a subtle edge. "Practice them until they become second nature. You need to own the stage, Leo." He demonstrated me some poses. Thomas was much better than my former coach in Colombia. Then, satisfied with the result, he gave me a new towel and told me to take a shower. I went to the social bathroom, but he told me to take a shower in his room, that he had prepared the bathtub for me. "You deserve it, champ."

The whole day was special. At evening, he opened up about his achievements, sharing stories of his favorite tattoos and the meanings behind them: "I got this tattoo after I won my first weight lifting competition," Thomas said, pointing to a Norse mythology design on his bicep. "It's a reminder of the hard work and dedication that brought me here." I admired the intricate ink, tracing my finger along the lines. "It's incredible, Thomas."

A fleeting silence hung in the air, and then Thomas shifted the conversation, delving into more personal topics. He spoke of encounters he had with other men, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

"You know, Leo," he began, his gaze fixed on some distant memory. "I've had my fair share of experiences. Go after the things you enjoy. I know you look up to me and I'm glad to be in your mentor's position. If your pectorals get nearly as muscular as mine, I would feel I did a good job. But make no mistake. It is a long way."

I nodded, sensing the unspoken message behind his words. It was as if Thomas wanted to emphasize his position, to make it clear that I was not yet on his level. But beneath that facade, I could perceive a hint of insecurity, a fear that my rising potential could threaten his own legacy. So, I decided to check if my suspicions were right.

As the night fell, Thomas took charge of preparing a mixed balanced dinner for both of us. The enticing aroma of grilled chicken and roasted vegetables filled the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. He moved around the kitchen with confidence, his muscular frame clad only in a pair of boxers and a thick necklace that accentuated his rugged masculinity. His ass was a standout.

"Leo, grab some plates, will you?" he called out, his voice carrying a tone of warmth and familiarity.

I was in my room, in white briefs, and I came out like that. The idea of ​​watching the game on the couch with him, two males only in underwear, made me horny. I placed the plates on the coffee table in front of the television.

In silence, we ate everything, leaving the plates on the coffee table. The game was about to start, and we settled onto the sofa, our bodies slightly touching. The briefs hugging my toned thighs accentuated my powerful quads while highlighting the prominent bulge beneath. Without hesitation, I casually placed my left hand on my own bulging crotch area and leaned over to Thomas, smiling knowingly. "Hey," I whispered, "you feelin' alright?"

I could tell he was checking out my cock because every time our eyes met, he would quickly look away. Thomas tried to act nonchalant, but I could see him subtly shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he tried to hide his growing erection. He finally cleared his throat and replied, "Yeah, everything's fine." But the heat in his voice betrayed his true feelings.

We continued watching the game together, but now there was a new tension in the air. We both knew that something was brewing beneath the surface, waiting to explode into action if given half a chance. I decided to give him a clearer view of my bulge by opening my legs slightly wider, causing them to brush against his knee.

"Pass me the water, Thomas," I immediately said, reaching out my hands towards him. He handed me the bottle, our fingers briefly touching. I brought the cool liquid to my lips. He was trying to hide his erection, but he was no Eric. Thomas' cock was thick. Seeing him sweating was just what I needed to ask him the next question: "So, do you wanna know who I fucked last night?"

"Wel... you can tell me..." he replied, trying to downplay his curiosity.

"I fucked your brother's boyfriend, Hamid," I confessed to him. After I shared my intimate encounter with his younger brother's ex, Thomas couldn't help but bring up their shared history together. In his typical boastful demeanor, he bragged about his previous fucks with Hamid, implying a sense of superiority over our mutual connection.

"He didn't know me back then," I fired back. He replied: "He prefers Daddy types. It is his reputation." But his eyes darted nervously towards my briefs. For some reason, the banter and the implicit competition turned us on. My cock was springing to attention, yearning to burst forth from the briefs. the head and part of the shaft were already way past the waistband of the briefs. Thomas was looking at it.

I smirked, then also looked down at my own briefs. "He also said...", I drawled, pulling aside the soft cotton fabric, revealing the long, thick shape poorly hidden within, "...that he was tight because I was his first thick cock." With my right hand, I pulled the elastic of my underwear down, causing my hard cock to reach a height above my navel. I adjusted it to the left, letting it snap back into place, knowing full well the effect it would have on the muscular Viking. Then I held up the bottle beside my crotch, my bulge dwarfing the object, while making direct contact with Thomas. Then I gave the bottle back to him.

He held the bottle firmly. "Will you drink it?" I asked. He suppressed a gasp, before putting the bottle on the floor, lost in thoughts. I guess he was trying to keep his composure. "You don't have to worry about me," he then snapped back, flashing a grin full of mischief, "I have plenty of girth to fill a hole." He then pulled his cock out of his boxers. His girth was indeed impressive. If not by me, he could easily be the thickest in any room. "Let's see who cums first." I also pulled my entire cock out of the briefs.

We forgot about the game. We just stayed there, appreciating our bodies, looking at each other like two bros, side by side, but not touching. Each one began stroking his own cock up and down in perfect unison. I could not resist reaching out to trace the contours of Thomas' massive pecs with my fingertips. Without missing a beat, I turned to Thomas. "Want to give my cock a feel?"

He hesitated for a split second, but his curiosity won out. He tentatively reached out, caressing the base of my cock before giving it a stroke. I let lose a deep moan. I had made it. The dominating top who told me he didn't care about cocks was crazy about mine. I encouraged him to feel every vein and ridge. He explored it, slowing down, or picking up speed under my directions. "Do it like this... like that," I was enjoying giving him instructions. His newfound role made me want to be more verbal, but I guess he was not prepared to cross this line.

After some time there, some thought made him abruptly stop that ritual. He withdrew his hand from my cock and looked at me. "Your turn," he said, tilting his cock slightly forward, as if for me to wrap around it with my hand." I politely declined. "Sorry man, it is not my thing. I don't care about cocks." I was using those words, his words, to establish a difference between us. He was willing to serve my dick, I wouldn't reciprocate.

"I just did it, man. Come on, return the favor." He was in disbelief, meeting me with cold disinterest.

"Don't worry, coach, nobody will ever know how much you enjoyed touching it."

"No. You need to do it. It would mean so much to me, Leo. Do it. I touched yours, now touch mine, you brat," he raised his voice.

"Hard pass. You were great doing it though. Seemed like a pro." I opened my left palm, held my cock in my right hand, and slammed my cock hard against my palm four times.

I don't know if it was during the smacking noises of my cock against my palm or if it was right after, but the fact is that Thomas finally came. I also did it, right away, proud of the effect I had on him.

We stayed for a brief ten seconds with our bodies smeared with cum, when Thomas decided to quickly dress his boxers and go to his bedroom. "Rest, boy. Tomorrow training will be more intense," he said. Calling me boy again. Would he ever learn? As he left, I saw his strong glutes flexed with each step he took, sending ripples through his firm thighs. It was a perfect rear, which I knew I would soon breed. He would learn yes, even if it was the hardest way possible.

THOMAS

I couldn't accept the situation Leo had put me in during our side-by-side hand job. I hadn't planned any of this, but the attraction got the better of me. I went to sleep tormented by the idea that he didn't want to touch my dick, after I had touched his. What an idiot I was, allowing that turn of events. The experienced Dom Top was me; the youngling was an amateur.

Next morning, we were supposed to train legs and I decided to kick things up a notch. I wanted to show him how far I had come. I decided to demonstrate him my lifting abilities. After he did some exercises in the leg press machine, I turned to him. "Alright, Leo, prepare to be amazed. Watch how much weight I can handle." I avoided looking at his bulge at all costs, lest I get distracted. It worked. I had mixed feelings about training so hard in front of him. I wanted to inspire him, but part of me also wanted him to feel belittled.

We established a routine throughout this week. Training in the morning, in the afternoon we played video games and took turns doing housework. Fighting games were our favorites for stopping house care. Lots and lots of rounds of man versus man. I always played as the tallest bearded muscular guy, he always played as the handsome main character.

I commented that our physiques resembled those of the characters we'd always chosen, an observation he was pleased with. My character's massive frame reflected my own. Leo's character as was muscular as him, but seemed to forever take the role of apprentice, traveling around to get better techniques. I felt content with the comparison.

Our jerk off session became restricted to that sole event on Monday night. The reason behind this was that Leo was going out every night with Hamid, my sub Hassan's brother. Of course, Hamid had also been my sub before, and I had tons of messages of him showing me his hole, begging for another fuck. He still called me Sir.

Therefore, a sese of triumph mingled with my emotions, altering my perspective of the situation. Leo was taking my leftovers and I was fucking the hotter brother. All of this secured me a position of authority, the dominant figure in our social circle.

Motivated by this sense of power, I invited all of them, Leo, Hamid and Hassan, to the National Big Thicket Preserve. In my mind, Hamid and Hassan would bond again and I would further solidify my influence over the group. I already knew where to camp and what to do, so I expected loyalty, obedience and a chance for Leo to further prove himself as my apprentice.

On Saturday, our group of two couples decided to travel there ensuring an exhilarating and open-air experience throughout their trip. Hassan and I rode our own motorbikes, as we always did. Leo offered Hamid a ride on Eric's car, borrowed one night before. I hated Eric and I hated knowing Leo had somehow bonded with him.

The journey from Dallas to Big Thicket National Preserve was filled with picturesque landscapes and scenic routes. Our group roared through the Texan countryside, passing rolling hills, quaint towns, and sprawling farmland. Arriving at 12 pm at the Big Thicket, we hiked and set off on scenic trails, until settling into our own campsite, hopefully away from other people.

At night, around the campfire, we shared stories and commented on non-controversial themes. I truly felt like the leader of the pack. But it all changed when Hamid decided to bring out a new topic. He mentioned he read on a magazine about a research that concluded men's penises are getting bigger, meaning his and Leo's generation is more well-endowed.

"I don't think there's any scientific evidence for that claim," I dismissed. "Pfft, please. You kids and your dumb magazines full of lies. Don't know how anyone takes those seriously anyway."