Starting Over

I was finally moving out from my place with my soon-to-be-ex-wife. It had been a slow boil over twenty years, but we had gotten to a place where we could no longer stand to be around one another: we couldn't even be in the same room for longer than five minutes. Unfortunately, at the same time, I had lost my job as well. AI or something, no longer needed, thanks for the work, blah blah blah. I had a good severance package, so I decided I just needed to get out, reset, and figure out what to do with the rest of my life.

Fortunately, when I shared all of this with my old university roommate, Tyler, he immediately suggested I move in with him.

"Don't worry about it, Bro. We've got plenty of places for you to stay. No charge. You can stay for as long as you need."

Because we didn't live in the same city, I hadn't seen Tyler in person in ages -- we stayed in touch mainly through social media or through phone calls. But his offer was appealing. I liked the idea of being in a new place, too. It would help me clear my head from all the bullshit and stress from the last few years. And so, I accepted.

When I saw him waving to me at the airport, I was a little shocked. Back in our dorm days, we had both been skinny guys surviving on ramen and cafeteria coffee. And I had seen his body transform over social media. But in person, it was even more impressive: he was jacked. Not so big that his arms couldn't rest against his sides, or that his muscles looked disproportionate. But big in a very powerful way. He had a thick brown beard and a bald head. His t-shirt hugged the contours of his pecs and stretched over his chest.

As someone who used to be in shape in his twenties and thirties but had found it hard to keep it together in his forties and had the gut to prove it, I felt a little embarrassed at how good he looked. But none of that mattered when I walked up to him.

"Come here, Bro!" And he pulled me into a hug.

His hug was warm and welcoming. I found it more soothing than I had expected -- I guess I was carrying a lot of bullshit on my shoulders from the breakup -- and we rocked a little as his arms enveloped around me.

He clapped me on my back.

"It's great to see you, Bro!" He pulled me back and I could see his white teeth in his huge smile. "You look amazing!"

"Thanks," I said. "I don't feel amazing. I wish I didn't have this belly."

"Oh Bro, it makes you look powerful, masculine. Look at your dark hair, your eyes -- you look hot!"

"Thanks," I said again, feeling sheepish, and feeling a warm wave of pleasure ripple through me. "I can't believe you are saying this when you look perfect. Your wife must be so happy about how good you look!"

Tyler smiled an odd smile.

"Well, yeah, we'll get to that." He picked up my bag. "Let's go back to my place."

We got to his car in the car park -- a black Escalade -- and we drove home. On the way, he gave me the full details of his situation: Him and his wife were not breaking up, but they were definitely going through a bad patch. She felt he didn't listen to her, or something.

"Long story short, I'm sleeping on the couch, which is where I was going to put you."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said. I panicked a bit. Would I have to find a rental? A hotel room? What was I going to do? "I don't want to cause problems. I can find somewhere else."

"No, no," Tyler said. "It's not a problem. My son Brady is at college, and he doesn't come home much. And when he does, he's often at his girlfriend's. You can sleep in his bed."

"You sure?" I asked.

"Yeah," Tyler said. "I asked him. He's cool about it."

"There's nowhere else?"

"My daughter Gloria also has a room, and she's also away at college, but I don't think either of you would want you to crash in her bed."

"Okay," I said. I was feeling like an intruder now. "You sure?"

"I'm 100% positive!" Tyler said. "You can stay as long as you want." With his left hand on the steering wheel, he reached out to me with his right. His big hand grabbed my back and rubbed it.

"It's great to see you," he said. "We're going to have fun."

His smile looked like a million bucks.

*****

Tyler's house was nice. Not huge, but the rooms were comfortable and well-furnished. There were three bedrooms upstairs, and they were big. Brady's room shared a bathroom with his sister, and he had a king bed. The bedroom was a typical young guy's room: there were posters of some sexy ladies on the walls, some Star Wars stuff, and LED lights strung where the walls met the ceiling. It was clean except for the closet, which was so filled with junk I couldn't open it. But it was fine -- I figured I'd just live out of my suitcase.

At first, I struggled to find a routine. I wandered around Tyler's neighbourhood, watched TV, played on my phone. But I was bored. I didn't know what to do. I had been working every day for over twenty years, and I didn't know how to fill these enormous stretches of time I found in front of me every day.

It was also clear that Tyler's wife, Sharon, was not particularly happy with me being there. She was polite to my face, but that was it -- she never asked me a personal question, and when Tyler and I started talking, I could see her almost rolling her eyes.

Tyler came to the rescue again. One evening, after we'd eaten dinner, he asked me if I wanted to work out.

"Sure," I said. "But it's been ages. I'm going to cramp your style."

"No, come on," he said. "It'll make you feel better."

We went to the gym. It was fortunately pretty quiet, so we got to use the equipment we wanted, and I didn't feel so embarrassed. Tyler was a great teacher. He reminded me how to do some exercises and he taught me a few new ones. Even when I wanted to push myself, he told me not to.

"There's going to be time for you to push yourself. But you need to get back into the groove first. You don't want to injure yourself."

He also looked amazing. His body was in perfect shape. His legs were large and well-defined, his waist was tight, his arms huge. He wasn't afraid to show off his body, too. He wore small booty shorts and a tank top which he called a stringer. The tank barely obscured the top half of his torso, and the booty shorts showcased a huge bulge at the front.

I had never felt any attraction to guys before, but I definitely felt something when I watched him do a squat. The way his thick, round buttocks stretched the fabric of his shorts as he plunged close to the ground -- it was mesmerizing.

Tyler caught me staring.

"Inspecting my form?" He said and winked at me.

Afterwards, we got undressed to go take a shower. Once again, he showed no embarrassment to show off his body. And why would he? He had abs which rippled when he laughed. Even his flaccid dick was long and thick.

"Actually," he said. "I've got a favour to ask." He pulled out a little case and opened it up. There were syringes inside. "Can you give me an injection?"

"What is this?" I asked.

"Gear," he said. He lowered his voice. "Steroids. You don't think I'm natty, do you?"

"To be honest, yeah, I did."

He laughed. "No one's natty anymore."

"Then why are we whispering?"

"It's still uncool to be shouting about it." He looked over to another side of the gym. "Come on, there's an accessible washroom we can use to do it."

We went into the washroom and locked the door. Tyler showed me where to put it -- basically at the top of his buttocks.

Closer, and without shorts on, his buttocks were even more spectacular. Round, with a youthful bounce to them.

I grabbed one to steady myself and pushed the needle in with my other hand. It felt weird to be pushing a needle into my friend's body. But it was slightly thrilling.

I could feel a stirring in my dick. I tried to ignore it.

I finished and put the syringe back in the case.

Tyler turned around. His dick had plumped out and had lifted away slightly from his body. He looked down at it.

"Shit. I find the hormones make me super horny. I'm going to have to squeeze one out later."

We got showered and he drove us home in his Escalade.

"You know," he said. "If you want me to get you started on gear, I can do that for you."

I looked over at his body.

"I have a lot of questions."

He looked at me and winked.

"I'm sure you do."

Two weeks later, I was starting my first cycle with him, and we were going to the gym six times a week.

*****

For a couple of months, I was happy. I had a good routine, I mostly avoided Sharon, and I got to spend a lot of time with Tyler. We didn't just go to the gym -- we watched movies in the living room, went for walks, grabbed a few beers, and I hung out with his friends. It was clear that the "rough patch" with Sharon was a bigger deal than just one fight. She seemed to despise him, and everything he said, no matter how nice, was met with anger. Fortunately, she seemed happy to be in the backyard, the study or the bedroom when we were around, so we didn't see her often.

My body was also changing because of the gear. My shoulders and chest swelled out almost immediately, and my arms quickly followed. My belly didn't shrink as much as I hoped, but at least when I put on a t-shirt, I felt powerful rather than blobby.

And Tyler was right: I was horny, like, all of the time. I would get hard at the slightest provocation. Which would have been fine if there were any women in my life, but there weren't. Also -- and this was the first time in my life that I had experienced this -- I started getting turned on by the guys at Tyler's gym. I didn't know if it was a side effect of the gear, or something, but all of the pecs and arms and legs would distract me if I didn't pull myself together.

Worst of all, I was starting to get turned on by Tyler.

I generally tried to hide it, but for instance, if we were showering together after the gym, and I looked too long at his body, I could feel my dick starting to lift upwards. I'd have to turn away and think about anything else long enough for my dick to settle down.

And on top of that, I was worried that my time with Tyler was coming to an end: the summer was starting, and Tyler's kids -- Brady and Gloria -- might be coming home.

Fortunately, a week before they were supposed to return, Gloria found an internship in a nearby city, and she decided to stay with a friend there. She'd only be back on the occasional weekend.

Brady was more of a question mark. He had a girlfriend who he usually stayed with, but he could be coming to the house sometimes.

"What if he needs to stay here?" I asked Tyler one time when we were finishing up at the gym. "Where will I sleep?"

"Don't worry," Tyler said. "You can both sleep in that bed. It's a king. And he's not a kid -- he's a grown ass man. He's 21."

"But is Brady okay with that?"

"Yeah," Tyler said. "He's a very laidback guy!"

"Okay," I said.

Tyler stripped off. He pulled out his case with his syringes.

"I need to cycle back to my buttocks. Can you inject me?"

I nodded. "You'll have to do me, too," I said.

"Sure."

We walked to the accessible washroom and locked ourselves in. Tyler was completely naked, but I still had some underwear on. He turned around and faced the wall.

"Whenever you're ready," he said.

His body was perfect. His back was a sculptural marvel, his legs thick and wide, his buttocks round. I had sort of given up trying to fight the horniness I felt all of the time. I figured it was just an effect of the drugs. I figured that me imagining putting my dick between my friend's asshole cheeks and slowly letting my cock get swallowed by his hole was something that everyone thought about his friend. I thought about sliding my pole in and out, letting him have it, watching his buttocks compress and expand as I bounced off of them.

I thought it was normal to start to get hard as I injected him with steroids.

I finished up, and he turned around, his hand rubbed against his abs. His dick, as per usual for these steroid injections, was at half-mast.

"Your turn," he said.

I faced the wall and pulled my underwear down. My dick flopped out. My cockhead, reaching out and up, touched the cold tile wall.

I felt Tyler touching my lower back and my buttocks. There was a prick, and he squeezed my buttocks a little. When he finished, he gave them a slap.

"This shit works," he said. "You look good!"

I could hear him put the syringes away.

At this point, my dick was fully erect. Normally, I would have a halfie like him, we'd have a joke about it, and we'd finish up changing. I could have tried to hide it by putting my underwear back on. But this time, I thought I'd just turn back to him and pretend it was nothing.

He immediately looked at it.

"Whoa, dude, you're super horny! That is a monster dick! It's thick!"

His dick, which was at half-mast, started rising quickly.

"We look good -- look in the mirror!"

We turned to the mirror. He looked better than me -- his body was nearly flawless, from his cut abs to his gigantic biceps to his well-defined thighs. And his long flaccid dick was standing up proudly, a hard cylinder of flesh. But I was pretty impressed with myself, as well. My arms were shockingly big, my shoulders rounder and more massive than his. And while my dick wasn't as long, it was much thicker.

"I'm so boned up, I think it'll be better if I cum before I leave the gym."

"Oh yeah," I said. My dick twitched. "You want to masturbate?"

"Yeah," he said, locking eyes on me. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see his dick twitching, too.

"We just both masturbate here?" I said.

"Why not?" He said. He grabbed his dick and started pulling. With his other hand, it began running over his body.

I started to do the same.

For a few minutes, we just pulled on our dicks and stared at each other. I watched his fingers run across his chest and begin to finger his nipple. He pulled it.

I was so horny I could have come at any moment.

"Here," he said, "Let's do this."

With his free hand, he lined us up in front of the mirror. He was on my left. His right hand gripped my right shoulder. I gripped his left shoulder with my left hand. We pulled together until our sides were touching from our lower legs to the tops of our torsos. We continued to pull at our own dicks with our other hands.

He looked at me in the mirror.

"Your dick looks so fucking good."

I nodded.

"I can't believe how fucking amazing you look," I said. "Your pecs and your arms are so hot."

We were both just staring at each other's dicks as we masturbated. I could see his cockhead pulse, and mine would pulse, too. By the sound and feel of his breathing, I could feel that he was close. I was getting close, too.

"Please," I said, "I want to see you cum. I want to see your hot cum."

I looked at Tyler's face briefly, and he looked pained, but through his pained face, he was nodding, and then I looked at his dick and almost without warning, white streams of cum began erupting out of him and onto the bathroom's sink. The sight of the cum sent my dick spasming and soon cum was shooting out of me. White ropes flew out, swirling and mixing with his cum in the sink.

We both began juddering and groaning. His fingers dug into my shoulder. My brain flooded with pleasure.

I said, "Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck."

He smiled at me, and slapped my shoulder.

"I think you made a good choice moving here!"

(To be continued...)