Gym Bro Arrangement
His Devoted Gym Cuck
Ethan knew he was the smaller one. At 5’6” and 135 pounds after a good bulk, he was lean, wiry, and devoted in a way that bordered on religious.
For two years, he had worshipped Marcus like a god carved from marble and testosterone. Marcus was 6’3”, 245 pounds of dense, vascular muscle, the kind of physique that turned heads at the gym and made straight men do double-takes in the locker room.
His chest was a shelf, his arms thicker than Ethan’s thighs, and his cock … well, Ethan had spent countless nights choking on it, tears streaming down his face, trying to prove he could handle what his man needed.
But lately, it wasn’t enough.
It was a rainy Thursday night when it all cracked open. They were in their apartment, the one Marcus mostly paid for with his tech salary and modeling gigs. Ethan was on his knees between Marcus’s massive quads; his lips stretched obscenely around the thick head of his boyfriend’s cock. He’d been at it for twenty minutes already, jaw aching, throat raw, but Marcus still hadn’t cum. The big man’s hand rested lazily on Ethan’s head, not even guiding him anymore, just resting there like an afterthought.
“Fuck, babe,” Marcus finally sighed, voice deep and slightly bored. “You’re trying so hard … and still doing a pathetic job.”
Ethan pulled off with a wet gasp, strings of spit connecting his swollen lips to the glistening shaft. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I know I’m not … big enough. Or strong enough. Or—”
Marcus tilted his head, looking down at him with that calm, predatory patience that always made Ethan’s stomach flip. “Say it.”
Ethan’s eyes filled with tears. He hated how easily they came these days. “I can’t satisfy you anymore. Not the way you need. Your size … your stamina … I’m too small. I get tired. I can’t take it like those guys at the gym look like they could.”
The silence stretched. Marcus’s cock, still hard and heavy, twitched against Ethan’s cheek.
Then Marcus smiled, slow and dangerous. “You’re right. You can’t. But I’ve got an idea that might fix that.”
That’s how the arrangement began.
The first time, Ethan thought he might actually throw up from jealousy. Marcus had picked a guy named Tyler, a thick-chested powerlifter with a beard and arms that rivaled Marcus’s own. They’d made eye contact in the free weights area, exchanged a few words, and Marcus had simply jerked his head toward the locker room.
Tyler had grinned like he’d won the lottery.
Ethan sat in the driver’s seat of their SUV in the gym parking lot, hands clenched on the wheel. Marcus had told him the rules clearly:
“You drive me here. You wait. Either in the car or in the locker room corner, like a good little bitch. When I’m done, you clean me up with your tongue. Every drop. Then you thank me for letting you serve.”
Ethan had cried in the shower before they left. Now he sat there for forty-five agonizing minutes, imagining every thrust, every grunt, every time Marcus’s huge cock split Tyler open in ways Ethan could never handle. His own dick was painfully hard in his shorts, which only made the shame worse.
When Marcus finally emerged from the gym, hair still damp from sweat, he looked freshly fucked and radiant. He climbed into the passenger seat, shut the door, and immediately reached over to grip the back of Ethan’s neck.
“Drive behind the gym. Park in the back lot where it’s dark.”
Ethan’s hands trembled on the wheel as he obeyed. The gym’s rear parking area was mostly empty and poorly lit at this hour. As soon as the SUV was parked in a shadowed corner, Marcus spoke again, voice low and commanding.
“Backseat. Now.”
Ethan quickly climbed between the seats into the back. Marcus followed right behind him, his massive frame making the car rock slightly as he settled into the backseat and spread his thick, powerful legs.
Marcus shimmied his gym shorts off his hips and pulled out his still semi-hard cock. It hung heavy between his legs, slick, shiny, and carrying the unmistakable scent of another man.
“Lick.”
Ethan hesitated only a second before leaning in. The taste hit him immediately—salt, musk, the faint bitterness of cum, and something else, something that made his stomach clench with humiliation. He dragged his tongue along the thick vein, cleaning every inch while Marcus watched him with hooded eyes.
“Good boy,” Marcus murmured, running a hand through Ethan’s hair. “Tyler came twice. Said I ruined him for other tops. You’re gonna thank me when we get home.”
That night, the apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the city outside their window. Ethan had barely closed the front door before Marcus grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him toward the bedroom.
“Strip,” Marcus ordered, already peeling off his own shirt to reveal his massive, pumped chest and thick abs. “On the bed. Ass up.”
Ethan’s hands shook as he obeyed, peeling off his clothes until he was completely naked. His own cock was painfully hard, smaller and thinner than Marcus’s, even when fully erect. He climbed onto the bed on all fours, arching his back the way Marcus liked.
Marcus stood behind him, stroking his heavy cock back to full hardness. It was still slightly slick from the earlier cleanup Ethan had performed in the car.
“Look at you,” Marcus said, voice deep and mocking. “So eager even after I just wrecked a real man at the gym. Tyler took every inch like it was nothing. You? You tap out after five minutes.”
Ethan whimpered, face burning with shame. He felt the heavy weight of Marcus’s cock slap against his ass cheeks a few times before the thick head pressed against his hole.
“Please, Sir …,” Ethan whispered.
“Please, what?” Marcus growled, gripping Ethan’s narrow hips with both huge hands. “Please fuck you like I fucked him? You know you can’t handle that.”
He pushed forward anyway. The fat head of Marcus’s cock breached Ethan’s tight ring, forcing a sharp cry from his throat. Even after two years, the stretch was brutal. Inch after thick inch sank in slowly, stretching Ethan far beyond what felt comfortable.