EXCERPT: Mad Bull & Glory

{Here be a very short erotic tale I wrote a while back. If you've read my book SubSurdity (not an erotic book itself)  you'll recognize the characters. I don't know if I ever really thought this would find placement anywhere. It's a tiny tale. But it was fun to write. Maybe I'll include it in a future anthology if I'm lucky anough to have another.}

Mad Bull & Glory
Eric Arvin
copyright, 2007


It would have been an exhausting day if it hadn’t been for the countless cans of Mad Bull energy drink he had gulped down. There was so much to do that David never even had the chance to eat lunch, just more and more Mad Bull. He supposed it was good marketing. He didn’t know; he was a writer, and this was just a job to keep some money coming in. But he worked for the Mad Bull company and he was at the bodybuilding expo which Mad Bull sponsored. Yeah. He was doing the company good while speeding his heart to ridiculous rhythm.

David rode the elevator to his room on the top floor, every so often taking a quick swig of energy juice. It was a nice hotel; nothing too special, but it was large, and honestly, what classy hotel would host a bodybuilding expo? He sighed. It was really too bad he hadn’t enjoyed his day, he thought. He had access to the backrooms, the back stage, the backs of these beefy showmen. Yet there hadn’t even been time to pause and admire the swollen mounds of oiled muscle parading about as humans. No. David was busy escorting agents here or family members there. Not a muscle baby within ten feet of his itchy fingers.

He took another swig. “Thank god for the drinks,” he mumbled. They had saved him from becoming limp and useless on the job. “Not one muscle Mary,” he huffed, watching the elevator button lights climb. One thing was sure. He was certainly never going to get to sleep that night, not with all the Mad Bull he had swallowed. He decided that he’d just have to look out over his room’s balcony, nicely situated over the pool. There would surely be some bodybuilders having some nighttime pool refreshment. With the lights to his room off and his adrenaline pumping be could stay out watching them all night. Those big guys would be just the rescue his libido needed in the form of continuous masturbatory fantasies. He was already getting hard thinking about it. He was glad he’d brought his binoculars.

The elevator stopped two floors below David’s nighttime rendezvous, and as the doors opened he was stunned to see the figure of one of the larger bodybuilders in the contest. His name was Cliff, or something like that. He wasn’t going to win the competition (he was perhaps too big and not strictly symmetrical), but he caused David’s maddened heart to quicken even more. He wore a workout shirt that hung from his massive shoulders, and baggy, plaid shorts. The man turned to David and smiled. David drooled, or at least he felt like he did. In truth, he said something pedestrian in the form of a greeting. He couldn’t take his eyes off the man, and he didn’t know if it was because of all his bottled energy or some true attraction.

Cliff looked at David again, kindly, gently, but with some sensuality. David tried to straighten up, to puff out his chest. He wasn’t a bodybuilder but he kept in good shape. His meaty elevator companion seemed to notice. His eyes covered David head to toe. David felt his skin going warm. Was this bodybuilder the type of guy to do some elevator sexin’? A pounding from him would break the cables. What a glorious death that would be!

But, as David was about to open his mouth and say something daring and worthy of the best gay erotic novel, the elevator came to a halt the floor below David’s own, and the doors opened. The cumbersome man climbed from the cage as David’s hopes for a wrestling match were dashed. He eyed with longing and heartbreak the large glutes as they as they took turns rising and falling, both still visible beneath the baggy shorts. Seeming to feel the stare, the bodybuilder turned around, playfully nodding an invitation back to his room. At the site of that grin, David pulled the closing elevator doors apart with more ease than a superman who’s had a whole can of spinach or carrots or whatever it was that supermen ate.

David tried not to follow too quickly or closely down the quiet midnight hallway, but this was the chance of a lifetime. To be the bottom boy of a towering muscle man; what guy wouldn’t want that? Maybe there’d be some hot muscle worshipping.

After a few seconds of respectable, if torturous, waiting once the bodybuilder had gone into his room, David slipped in through the propped door. His body tingled from the anticipation of being topped by such a man. His thoughts of himself as bottom boy vanished, however, as he came fully into the room. The bodybuilder’s clothing had been quickly shed to the floor, and the man himself was positioned on the bed on all fours, his beautiful ass shot proudly in the air, cheeks wide and gorgeous.

The nearly empty can of Mad Bull fell from David’s hand as he stared in disbelief – and sheer joy. He almost bounded out of his khakis, his eyes focused on the sight in front of him. His dick had never been as painfully erect, and in his mind came one thought: Fuck foreplay!

He found it surprisingly easy to gain entrance between the two palm-exceeding cheeks, but the well-used hole still provided extraordinarily sufficient pleasure. David felt as if his head was going to explode as he grabbed and clawed at the Cliff’s sculpted ass. He had never pumped so hard and so fast in his life. Surely, his speed would have killed a normal man. The Mad Bull had turned him into a frenzied, fast-forward fucking machine. The muscleman groaned and gasped loudly as his own body blurred from the rapid fire fucking he was receiving. David couldn’t tell if Cliff was saying “ho”, “go”, or “no”. At this point, with his head in ecstatic revelry, he didn’t care. The slapping of flesh, the noises of fucktasia coming from the bodybuilder, David was certain that when he did cum he was going to blast a hole through the wall. Their bodies shook, the bed shook, the room shook. David lifted Cliff in the air, going deep into his guts with loving rage. Cliff cried as if he were a virgin boy.

This Mad Bull was superhuman elixir. Market that! That’ll raise sales.

David felt the crescendo approaching. He leaned them both forward, pulling on his ride’s hair, and let loose with a stream of cum that, he was certain, had never been witnessed before by the boring walls of the room. Both he and the bodybuilder let out gaping cries of satisfaction before falling to the soaked sheets of the bed. 

They both lay there for a bit, silent and entranced by the remnants of euphoria. David was still hard. His cock lay against the Cliff’s ass. Every so often it would jerk as if straining to regain entrance to the bodybuilder.

The muscleman made a motion to rise. “You want something to drink?” he nodded to a corner which held cases of complimentary Mad Bull. He gave a grin of appreciation. “I can’t stomach the stuff myself. And I can stomach a lot.”

He rose (the bed jumped up in relief) and walked, albeit with a slightly wobbly gait, to the balcony. David watched him with lust and tenderness as he leaned out naked over the railing. The light from the room shone on the beautiful flesh of Cliff’s ass. David felt his cock wanting, uncontrolled. He looked to the corner at the cases of Mad Bull, then back at the great piece of art on the balcony.

“A superhero’s work is never done,” he said to himself.