A distressed scream rang out from down the hall. Eric, drifting in and out of a nap, shot up in bed like a bullet. He grabbed his phone to call 9-1-1, and in less than a second was on the floor and off running as fast as he could toward the sound, heart racing.
“Eric!” another scream rang out.
Still half asleep and slipping every few steps, he reached his roommate’s door and placed his hand on the doorknob, terrified to discover what could have caused his friend to yell like that. He pushed the door open, holding his breath, to find–
–his roommate, buck naked, bent over, spread eagle, ass facing him, hanging out in all his glory–and smiling at him from between his legs. Eric dropped his phone in shock, standing open-mouthed and dumbfounded.
He breathed a sigh that was part relief and part anger, covering his eyes. “Dude, come on. You gotta stop messing around like that, I almost had a fucking heart attack.”
Justin, laughing, stood up and pulled up his underwear–his thong, to be more accurate. Eric looked over to see himself captured on Justin’s laptop screen.
“Were you recording me, you dick?!” he said, punching Justin in the chest.
“Youtube, man. Gotta give the subscribers what they want. Don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it,” he said, grinning. He moved closer to Eric and looked down at his shorts. “Is that a chubby I see?” he said, smiling. He reached down and tapped Eric’s balls before he could react.
“You ass,” Eric replied, pushing him away. Justin liked to tease anything with a pulse. He would fuck anything with a pulse, too.
If he were being honest, he would describe Justin as the vainest SOB he had ever known. They met freshman year, when both were still football players who had been recruited by their school’s D1 team–Justin as a wide receiver, Eric as a punter. And they had both quit at the end of freshman year–Eric because his studies were suffering, and since he knew that athletics were not in his future, he had to make a tough choice; Justin because it took too much time away from partying and fucking.
And he wasn’t lying. That year, he had a constant stream of girls and guys coming in and out of their room, the smell of weed and sex drifting out pretty much every weekend. Eric rarely saw the same person over twice–which, by the sound of the moans coming from his room and the reluctant way they always left, must have devastated them.
Over the years, Eric kept his athletic physique, staying lean and sculpted at a respectable 5'11 and 190–whereas Justin had actually started working out harder after leaving the team. He had arrived as a freshman at a respectably jacked 6'1" and 200, and now, at 22, he had grown into a hulking 235, distributed in perfect proportions over his thick frame. He stayed lean all year round–even if Justin didn’t make a point of reminding him all the damn time, he’d know from any of the myriad times he lifted his shirts for an ab check throughout the course of any given day. When he even bothered to wear shirts.
Standing there in his thong, he looked like a competition ready bodybuilder, veins coursing down his 3-D shoulders and massive arms. He had huge, cannonball-looking biceps, a perfect split capping off the 19" peaks. A huge set of pecs so full and pumped it looked painful hung over a crazily symmetrical eight pack that was so thick it bowed out slightly, with a pronounced Adonis belt leading down to an overstuffed package. Eric had seen enough of him to know that Justin’s dick was longer and thicker than just about every porn star he had ever seen.
Justin turned around to stop the recording on his laptop and Eric was subjected to his massive glutes swallowing up the American flag thong he was wearing, completely disappearing between his cheeks. As he walked away his ass bounced and swayed, jiggling for a second even after he stopped moving. He bent down to press a button on his computer and his enormous hamstrings and calves flexed, showing off striations.
They had roomed together every year, and Eric had watched his friend grow into one of the biggest guys on campus–physically and figuratively, as he was no doubt one of the most popular faces in their class too. He had a full wall-length mirror put into his apartment dorm room so that he could watch himself posing–or having sex, whichever the situation called for–and instead of posters of other bodybuilders or superheroes or movie stars or models, he had progress photos of himself up on his walls.
Senior year had just begun, and Justin had already been going nonstop with the pranks. It was something new every year. This year it seemed to be Justin annoying the shit out of him, and it usually involved him being naked.
The thing that Eric constantly had to remind himself of was that Justin was actually a really good guy. He was smart, a scholar athlete before he gave up football, and without his help and constant tutoring, Eric would have failed Stats and Biology their freshman year. When Eric’s father passed away at the beginning of their junior year, he didn’t leave his side for one second, distracting him with his usual goofball attitude and flying back home with him to pay his condolences to Eric’s family. And when some obnoxious assholes from the football team were regularly bullying Frank, their friend who lived down the hall before he was their friend who lived down the hall, Justin stood up to their former teammates and told them to shove off–losing friends in the process. But earning them a new one.
They got along as if they had known each other since birth, and they were already planning to move in together after graduation. He would always have his back, and he knew Justin would have his. If only he would stop flashing him all the goddamn time.
At that moment, Frank popped his head into their room, looking confused. “What the hell was all that screaming?” He took a quick look at Justin in his thong, laptop open, and immediately understood: “Oh.”
Frank was a great guy, but he was…undersized, as Justin referred to him affectionately. He was 5'6" and 130 pounds soaking wet. He was very thin, but actually had quite a broad frame, with a wide back and shoulders. There just wasn’t any meat on them. The only place on his body that seemed to not be built out of twigs was his ass–as skinny as he was, Frank had a huge, firm bubble butt that was so big it regularly got comments from total strangers. Genetics, he always told them with an embarrassed smile. And he was undeniably good-looking, with a face that was at once boyishly cute and ruggedly handsome, his hair a wavy brown mess that looked good no matter what he did with it.
Frank was gay, and had the misfortune of being stuck in the dorm that most of the athletes inhabited at their large state school. Which had gotten him into altercations with a few assholes here and there–hence Justin coming to his rescue more than a couple times. The football players, of course, knew Justin had been with his fair share of guys too, but as with all cowardly bullies, thought that Frank might be a little easier to pick on than a 6'1" prime specimen of physical perfection.
Justin definitely liked to fuck with Frank’s head–the big one and the little one–more than anyone else’s. He walked over to Frank and slowly backed him up against the wall. “Just having a little fun,” he said, pressing his thick body up against Frank’s. “Wanna join?” He took Frank’s hand and placed it on one of his naked, round buttocks, running his other hand down Frank’s chest and abs. Feeling the heat rising off of Justin’s body, Frank couldn’t have stayed soft in that moment if his life depended on it. Still, he had principles–and one of those principles was to never sleep with Justin.
“Get off me, you perv,” he said with fake outrage, pushing him away–but not before Justin felt Frank’s dick chub up in his shorts.
“Why haven’t we ever hooked up, Slim?” Justin asked seductively.
“Cause you’re an asshole,” Frank replied bluntly. “Now can you put some damn clothes on?”
“Fiiiiine, whatever,” he said, reluctantly stomping over to his closet like a grade-schooler who had just been told it was bedtime. He pulled out a couple items of clothing. “Who’s hungry?”
The three of them holed up in the usual back corner of their dorm’s cafeteria, watching their fellow classmates interact with one another. Justin, typically, was dressed in the very least amount of clothing that could be considered publicly decent, wearing an extremely flimsy stringer tank top that showed off his entire broad chest and the top couple rows of his eight pack, along with a very tight pair of short shorts that displayed his package and ass obscenely, his legs threatening to rip them apart at any moment. Their trays almost empty, Justin was in the process of looking around the room and pointing at various people.
“Fucked her, fucked her, fucked him, fucked her, fucked him…” he was saying, his friends only half-listening. They were used to this routine. “Don’t know who that is but definitely want to fuck him…she was dating the captain of the baseball team at the time and stillfucked her…”
“You know, one of these days we will find out that there is an actual human person hidden underneath all that sleaze,” Frank said, slurping down the last of his Captain Crunch.
At that moment two fellow seniors whom they had known since freshman year, Seth and Skylar, walked up to their table. They were twins, brother and sister, and to call them stunning would have been an understatement. Both tall, beautiful, and athletic with large eyes and impossibly high cheekbones that betrayed their Egyptian heritage, the two were consistently atop their school’s shallow–but honest–Most Beautiful People list every year. Skylar’s long, thick, curly black hair was a perfect counterpoint to Seth’s neatly manicured buzz cut. They were two of the most popular students at school, serving as President and VP of the student body council, and were two of the most active as well, heading a number of their schools political and charitable organizations. They were also notable as perhaps two of the only people on campus who Justin hadn’t been able to seduce into his bedroom, in addition to Frank.
“What’s up guys?” Seth said, as they stopped by their table, both twins filling out their rugby polos to a T. “How were your summers?”
“Oh, you know. Simple. Partying. Working out. Getting laid,” Justin said, casually stretching to show off his massive arms and lats.
“I’m sure,” Skylar said with a roll of her eyes. “Well, we just wanted to stop by to remind you about the Organization Fair. Club sign ups are today and we could really use some volunteers for the campus food drive and student forum.” She handed them a couple flyers.
“What’s in it for me?” Justin said naughtily.
Eric reached over to punch him in the shoulder. “Ignore him. We’ll be there.”
“Awesome, guys,” Skylar said with a flip of her hair. “We’ll catch up with you later!” They turned to leave, heading off toward other friends at other tables.
Justin watched them walk away. “They want it. They just don’t know it yet,” he said, playfully bouncing his pecs. They were so big that Frank and Eric could see the muscle rolling from bottom to top before they relaxed, settling back into place.
“Dude–you can’t handle that there might just be at least one person out there who doesn’t want to sleep with you, can you?” Eric asked.
“That’s because there isn’t,” Justin said matter-of-factly, flexing his biceps.
“You may actually be the most conceited guy in the world,” Frank said. “There’s no way you’d be so cocky if you didn’t have that body. Be thankful for those abs.”
“Nah, I bet I could pull anybody with or without this body. Confidence is something you’re born with. I don’t need the muscles.”
“Oh yeah? You wanna put your money where that big mouth is?” Frank asked.
“Meaning, I bet there’s no fucking way you could handle losing that body. If you were fat, all that overconfident BS would disappear in a heartbeat. You’d lose your mind if you were no longer the All-American pretty boy.”
Eric nodded his head in agreement. “Love you man, but it’s true.”
“How much fat are we talking? Like 30, 40 pounds? Cause that’s nothing.” Justin pushed his thick, blocky abs out into a solid little ball for effect.
“No, man. It would have to be something significant, something that makes you look like a different person. I’m thinking at least 100 pounds,” Eric said.
“100 pounds?!? That’s crazy man, that’s like another whole Frank!”
“Mmhmm. That’s what I thought. All talk, no action,” Frank teased.
“Hey, I worked hard for this body, man. I can’t just throw it all away for no good reason,” Justin protested.
“He’s scared already,” Eric said, enjoying getting Justin riled up.
Justin paused for a long moment. “What do I win if I do it? These better be some huge stakes, if I’m destroying my body just to prove you dipshits wrong.”
Eric thought for a second. “You’re not gonna win. We all know it. But let’s say you pull this off…when we move in together after graduation, I’ll do your laundry, wash your car, and do all your shopping for a whole year.”
Frank, whose family was very well off, though he himself was quite frugal, chipped in. “Throw in a thousand bucks from my savings too. And I’ll break my ‘no sex with Justin’ rule. I’ll give you a blowjob whenever you want.” Justin’s left eyebrow perked up at that last bit.
Frank continued. “But if you cop out before you hit 100 or lose your shit, you keep the weight on. You can’t lose any of what you’ve gained for at least a year. And you have to stay out of the gym for that year too.”
“Not bad, not bad. And $1000? Double it and I’ll bet you that I nail Seth as well. After gaining 100 pounds,” he said, looking over to see Seth’s huge pecs fighting for space in his polo as he spoke to a friend on the lacrosse team.
“You really are a cocky bastard,” Eric said, chuckling in disbelief.
“So?” Justin said, giving them a naughty grin.
Eric and Frank looked at each other and hesitated for a second. Then they both reached a hand out across the table to one of Justin’s and shook it firmly.