“Good morning, baby,” he whispered, his voice floating through her head. Erin turned onto her back, looking up at Nick’s hypnotic green eyes and sighed. They were so gorgeous, she could barely hold herself together.

“Good morning,” she answered distantly. It was mid-October and Nick was sexier than ever. He had put on a few more pounds of pure muscle and it showed…both in bed and on the field. At 6’1”, 200 pounds, he was unstoppable. In fact, he was on track to coming near Ryan Maloney’s old single-season scoring record…as only a freshman! Their opponents had to double team him to keep him from scoring touchdowns.

But at night, Nick was unstoppable in another way. Erin lost count how many times they had had sex last night; neither of them ever got tired doing it over and over again. And each time, it got better and better. His huge, thick cock would slip into her so easily, giving her orgasms she never knew possible.

“You know what today is?” he asked, smiling so that his dimples appeared. Erin shuddered.

“Homecoming,” she answered. She reached up to kiss him, their tongues dancing delicately together, his light stubble scratching her face. Over the last month, Nick had gotten into the habit of not always shaving every day…and that perpetual shadow of rough black hair on his jaw made him look even sexier. Sometimes, Erin would start cumming from just looking at him. “And the pep rally’s today, too!”

“Yep,” he grinned, “and I’m still not gonna tell you what we got planned.” Erin groaned mockingly. The Varsity football team always did some sort of zany skit in front of the whole school, but it was always kept a secret as to what exactly it would be. Nick laughed softly as he climbed out of bed and stood up. Erin nearly orgasmed again at the sight of her boyfriend’s bare ass staring her straight in the face, a view of his thick, flaccid cock from behind swaying between his ripped thighs. Nonchalantly, he reached for his boxers and slipped them on. Then, he bent over the still dazed figure of his girlfriend and grazed his lips on her forehead. “Don’t you have to get up?” he asked.

“What about you?” she gazed into his eyes dreamily.

“The football team doesn’t have to go to first period today, remember?”

“You lucky bastard,” she taunted, making him laugh once again. She finally got out of bed – still not taking her eyes of Nick’s miraculous body – and laid a hand on his bubble butt. She could sense his shudder at her touch. Yep, he was just as mesmerized by her as she was by him. “See you later,” she murmured.

“Ladies and Gentlemen,” Kyle Sherman, the student council vice president, an outgoing member of the theater department and the MC for the pep rally announced. “Your Central High School Varsity football team!” The entire student body erupted into cheers as the whole team walked to the center of the gym floor. They all wore dress shirts and ties, as was the custom the day of the Homecoming game, one of the many traditions left over from the old days. “Who’s going to the game tonight?” Kyle shouted through the microphone. The students gave their thunderous reply. “And who’s gonna win tonight?” he asked.

“The SPARTANS!” the crowd answered in near-unison. Some of the football players raised their arms, trying to pump up their classmates even more. Getting the whole school behind them was important – that was the point of the pep rally.

“Alright!” Kyle continued once the din died down enough. “I’m sure many of you know about the new additions to the starting lineup this season.” Immediately, a few girls started screaming; they knew exactly what was going to happen next. “You know their names, these two freshmen, but let me introduce them to you right now.” He put down the mike and called toward the team. “Nick, Brandon, get out here!” Nick and Brandon somewhat nervously stepped from the group of their teammates and walked toward Kyle. Random shrieks could be heard from the bleachers of girls already losing themselves over the two young studs. Kyle then went into his trademark ring announcer voice.

“Starting quarterback, at 5 foot 11, 187 pounds, originally from Jasper, Indiana…Brandon “All-American Wonder Boy” Jones!” Instantly, every girl in the gym screamed at the tops of their voices; it was deafening. Brandon lifted his arms and flashed his legendary grin…something that only made the screaming even louder. Even Nick had to admit he was slightly aroused by the sight of Brandon accepting the ovation. The guy was a natural; he loved the attention and he handled it well. It probably came with the all the years of being the top athlete wherever he went, he thought.

“And now,” Kyle went on, “at wide receiver, 6 foot 1, 200 pounds, possibly the strongest freshman in the history of Central High School…Nick “Greek God Adonis” Angelakis!” As Nick stepped forward, he was blown away by the reaction he got. The rafters practically shook as 2,000 teenagers yelled their lungs out for him. Nick knew he was popular, but he never expected something like this; he almost didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he raised his hand up to them and smiled. Never in his life did he imagine he’d experience this. He glanced over at Brandon who was also cheering. I could get used to this, he thought.

“Ok,” Kyle said back in his normal voice, “you two are arguably the stars of the team.” He gave a huge, theatrical grin. “But I hear that’s not the only thing you’re known for.” Nick bit his lip; they had rehearsed this thing yesterday so he knew what was coming next, but he was a bit nervous doing it in front of the whole school.

“Take off your clothes!” one girl shouted from the senior section, followed by a smattering of laughter. Nick felt his face turn red.

“Now, wait,” Kyle held his hand up, signaling the crowd to settle down, “I’ve been hearing rumors about you guys. But I don’t quite believe them.”

“And what’s that, Kyle,” Brandon asked, as per the script.

“I heard that you two recently got a certain night job,” he answered, pouring on the over-acting. Some of the students were beginning to catch on and a few girls resumed their screaming. Nick walked up to the mike.

“I don’t know, dude,” he said. “Those are just rumors.” Then, Brandon tapped Kyle on the shoulder to “get his attention.”

“Actually,” he acted, “I do have a confession to make.” And with that, the music was cued – just generic rock music to keep the teachers from flipping out – and Brandon began going into a sensational striptease. He slowly undid his tie as his hips swiveled with the beat. Naturally, every girl was screaming, egging him on…and it was working. He got more into it, pulling off the tie and swinging it around his head before tossing it to the floor. Then, he began working on his shirt buttons and that’s when the crowd really started to lose it; you couldn’t hear the music anymore. Brandon looked up at the crowd seductively as he unbuttoning his shirt with agonizing slowness. Bit by bit, his flawless torso was revealed to the school – first the crease between his pecs, the taut fibers of muscle meeting at the middle, then his corrugated washboard abs, the blocks stretching and crunching together as he lithely twisted his body to the music, and finally his sexy obliques, exquisitely carved and diving down into his pants in a way that made your mouth water. Looking at him, Nick had to fight hard to keep from having a hard-on.

Then, Brandon slowly began to slide the shirt off his round, luscious shoulders, revealing his beautiful, arcing traps, his breathtaking, shredded delts, his gorgeous, bulging arms and his vascular forearms. And as the shirt fell to the floor, his chiseled back came into view, every muscle perfectly carved as if out of marble, his broad shoulders tapered down dramatically to his narrow waist. Brandon Jones was simply the epitome of male teenage perfection. Nick couldn’t take his eyes off of him. And the crowd was delirious; they were eating him up, on their feet and stomping on the bleachers.

“Well,” Kyle gulped theatrically, though he seemed just as moved as everyone else, “that’s really…impressive. Now, Nick,” he turned toward the other stud with a grin, “you can’t let him show you up like that, can you?” Nick leaned into the mike and smiled nervously.

“Well, I don’t know, man,” he said, “Brandon is pretty hot.” The whole school laughed. “But he’s got nothing on me!” And suddenly, Nick grabbed the middle of his shirt and ripped it outward, immediately displaying his muscled torso to everyone. The sound of the tearing fabric – rigged for this purpose – was picked up on the mike and once again, all the girls went wild. If they were delirious from Brandon’s striptease, they went berserk from seeing Nick ripping his shirt off. He pulled the remnants – now shreds of material – off his shoulders and threw them to the floor with attitude. “Got your tickets to the gun show?” he boasted as he flexed his 18-inch biceps to the roars of his classmates.

“Whoa!” Kyle exclaimed. “You got a license for those?”

“Hey, I don’t even have a driver’s license yet,” Nick answered comically. The crowd – or at least the ones who weren’t screaming – laughed again.

“You call that jacked?” Brandon interrupted and stepped in front of Nick to display his most-muscular pose.

“That’s not jacked,” Nick faux-taunted, “that’s jill-ed.” And then, he went into a most-muscular of his own. “BAM!” he shouted.

“Ok, ok,” Kyle inserted himself between them, his thin frame completely dwarfed by the two super-freshmen. “You guys are supposed to be teammates!” Brandon grabbed the mike from him.

“All y’all better come to the game tonight,” he said, turning on his southern Indiana twang full blast. “Then you’ll see Nick and me put these muscles to good use.” He flexed his biceps one more time to yet another chorus of shrieking girls.

“That was so awesome!” Brandon exclaimed in the locker room where he and Nick were putting on their real clothes. “Did you see how they were going crazy for us?”

“Yeah,” Nick answered, slightly dazed. Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined being cheered like that. He glanced over at his buddy who was still whipping his shirt over his broad shoulders. God, he was gorgeous – his flawless eight-pack, his striated pecs, his full lips…his stunningly beautiful eyes. It moved Nick every time he looked at him. “How do you do it?” he asked, almost as if it slipped out.

“How do I do what?” Brandon suddenly looked up, a half-smile on his face.

“I mean,” Nick corrected himself, “how do you handle a crowd like that so easily?” Brandon shrugged, his shirt scrunching up around his traps as he did.

“I don’t know,” he replied, beginning to button it up. “You seem to handle them pretty well yourself.” Nick laughed softly, shaking his head.

“Two years ago, I was just a scrawny, little kid,” he began, “and now…”

“You’re a 200-pound jock with a super-hot girlfriend and the adoration of an entire high school,” Brandon finished for him. Nick smiled; when it was put that way, it sounded pretty cool. His life had changed tremendously in such a small amount of time, he barely had a chance to comprehend it. Brandon sauntered up to him and wrapped his arm around Nick’s powerful shoulders, pulling him into him. “Welcome to my world, buddy!” he said cheerfully. At the sight of Brandon’s deep blue eyes, Nick instantly felt the urge to reach over and kiss him. But he blinked and threw it out of his mind. Brandon was straight; he was sure of it. He was a natural with the girls – a player of sorts. He was even going to the Homecoming dance with both the Tarkov twins. Nick didn’t want their friendship ruined by a stupid kiss. “I’ll see ya tonight,” he said, before turning on his heels and jogging out of the locker room. As he went, Nick watched his bubble butt through his dress pants and leaned against the lockers. What was hell is going on with me, he thought.

That night was the Homecoming game and the crowd had never been bigger. Even Coach Palmer said he had never seen the stands so full for a football game. The atmosphere was electric as the team took the field. Of course, Nick and Brandon got the loudest cheers when they were announced in the starting lineup. No doubt, many people were there just to see the two freshmen stars…in their tight football uniforms perhaps, especially after that pep rally. Even Nick had to admit Brandon looked really hot in those pads. His eyes peered out from behind the grill of the helmet, his thick arms bulged from beneath the shoulder pads, his tight waist twisted elegantly under the jersey and his butt….holy shit, his ass was so fucking sexy in those pants, Nick could barely concentrate. But he had to. The whole team – the whole school – was relying on him to produce.

The game went extremely well. Brandon’s passes were dead on, as usual, so all Nick had to worry about was making it into the endzone, a feat that was becoming almost too easy. The West Potomac coach quickly realized that Nick couldn’t be stopped by simple one-on-one defense and even two guys would take ten yards or so to tackle him to the ground. He loved the feeling of an opposing player grabbing onto his waist and being dragged behind as he continued charging down the field; it made him work even harder. This was what all the training over the summer did for him: build him into a big, strong machine of muscle. All those grueling leg routines had made his thighs massive pistons of unstoppable force. And it felt like he got stronger with each play. He became more and more confident as the Spartans’ score ticked higher on the scoreboard.

By the end, the Central High School Spartans demolished West Potomac 42-10. The whole school was in delirium. It had been years since their team had been so dominant over another. Not only that, both Nick Angelakis and Brandon Jones were now officially the gods of Central High School. All six touchdowns had been scored by Nick on passes from Brandon. It was as if the rest of the team didn’t matter. Of course, they were quick to give credit to them. After all, without solid coverage, Brandon would never have been able to make those passes in the first place. After a childhood of dreaming about being the star football player, Nick’s dreams were coming true.

Brandon leaned back into the armchair in his living room, making out with the Tarkov twins. Natalie sat on his lap, his tongue down her throat, while Katia snuggled beside him, nearly smothering her face in his neck and traps. Meanwhile, Nick was on the sofa cuddling with his girlfriend Erin and Peter Evans – the kicker – was on the loveseat about to reach second base with his girlfriend. It was the Saturday night of the Homecoming dance; actually, the group had only stayed at the dance for about an hour – mainly to make an appearance – and then they retreated to the privacy of Brandon’s house. His dad was going to be out for the evening, so they had the whole place to themselves. The boys’ shirts and ties were long-since discarded to the floor and the girls’ dresses were practically falling off. The room was filled with the punk music coming from the stereo and the sounds of teenage love-making.

In between kisses, Brandon made eye contact with Nick and grinned. The buzz of the victory from the night before – and the beer that Brandon had brought up from the basement fridge – had put Nick into a dream world almost too good to be true. But to Brandon, he had been living this dream his whole life – the sports star that could get any girl he wanted. Sometimes, it did feel too good to be true.

“Nick,” Erin whispered, getting up from the coach. Brandon watched as the two looked into each other’s eyes as if they were communicating without words. Then, they slipped down the hall to a bedroom. Brandon smiled; Nick was definitely getting some tonight. But Brandon’s smile meant something else, too. In a way, he envied Nick for finding a girl to whom he could give himself up entirely. Of course, there were plenty of girls who were more than willing to be with Brandon, but he had yet to find his soulmate, if such a thing existed. He never really dated a girl long enough to find out anyway. It was as if he didn’t want to, as if he was scared about something, but what, he couldn’t figure out.

“Oh, my God,” Katia moaned as she drifted her hand down to Brandon’s crotch. He left Natalie and began kissing her, the taste of both twins now in his mouth. There were a hell of a lot of hot girls at Central, but the Tarkov twins were by far the best yet. They were game for just about anything.

“How big is it?” Natalie asked breathlessly, noticing the growing bulge in his pants.

“You wanna find out?” he replied, flashing a debilitating grin their way. Both girls nodded in unison and Katia began undoing his fly. Her dainty hands shaking with anticipation, she fished Brandon’s cock out of his boxers. Suddenly, she gasped when she sighted its thickness. Brandon smirked to himself; he never got tired of that reaction. Katia looked up at her sister in a daze and Natalie started pulling out the biggest, thickest, most beautiful dick she had probably ever laid eyes on.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed, unable to take her eyes off of it. Brandon blushed. For most of his life, he had never quite realized how “gifted” he was until he bed his first girl at 9 years old. Of course, it had gotten a lot bigger since then, but it was just as impressive.

“Are you alright?” Brandon asked, a little worried at the twins’ blank expressions. After all, there had been more than one occasion where a girl had passed out upon seeing him for the first time.

“Oh, fuck!” Katia suddenly gasped and immediately began deep-throating his cock as best she could, opening her mouth up wide. Meanwhile, Natalie started licking the shaft like an ice cream cone, completely overtaken by its size. Brandon leaned his head back in the chair. This never got old.

Ian pulled his bike up to the basketball court near Huntsman Lake. The guy had told him over the phone to meet him there at one in the morning. He glanced at his watch; he should be coming soon. Looking around, Ian pulled his jacket a little tighter as a cold gust of wind whistled through the trees. He knew what he was doing was probably illegal – hence the reason for all this cloak and dagger shit – but Ian wanted to be huge…or at least huger than he already was for an almost-15-year-old. His birthday was in about a week and somehow, at 5’11” and 205 pounds of pure muscle, Ian didn’t feel big enough anymore. Hell, he wanted to be the biggest 15-year-old in the world! But everyday, he watched Nick at football practice and he swore his former best friend looked bigger than the day before. And in fact, he was beginning to catch up. His last physical pegged him at 200 pounds. Ian knew it would only be a matter of time before he was surpassed once again by him…unless he did something about it.

“Psst!” a voice hissed from behind him. Ian swung around to see a scrawny kid leaning against a tree just off the court, a duffle bag draped over his non-existent shoulders. Ian almost did a double take; this guy’s going to sell him steroids? I could break him in half without even trying, he thought. With a smirk, Ian sauntered over to him.

“Hey!” he said, “you got the stuff?”

“You got the money?” the kid said gruffly, not showing the least bit intimidation from someone as big as Ian Antoncelli. The guy obviously knew what he was doing.

“Yeah, here it is,” Ian answered, pulling a wad of bills – money he had gotten from Kim’s desk drawer – out of his jacket pocket. The kid snatched it from him and immediately began counting it. “It’s all there, dude,” Ian assured him.

“Shut up,” he replied, glaring up at him with wild eyes. That’s when Ian recognized him; he had seen him in the halls at school. The guy was a senior…shit, what was his name? Travis Plummer, yeah, that was it. Supposedly, he grew up on the streets of LA and moved to Virginia to live with his grandparents a couple of years ago. He was notorious for being a trouble-maker, but Ian had no idea he was into drug-dealing. Finally, Travis fished a small plastic bag out of his duffle. Inside were four small vials of liquid. “You know how to use this shit, right?” Travis asked. Ian scoffed.

“Of course,” he grabbed the bag out of the kid’s hand and looked up at it in the light of a nearby street lamp. The liquid looked plain and unremarkable; it could’ve been just water for all he knew. “How do I know you’re not ripping me off,” he sneered. Travis shook his head slightly.

“You don’t,” he replied matter-of-factly. “But you’ll see how great that stuff is soon enough. It’s the best stuff on the market.” We’ll see about that, Ian thought to himself. He stuffed the bag into his jacket and began to walk away. “Just so you know,” Travis called after him, “there’s enough in there for one cycle. You can always come back to me for more.”

“Whatever,” Ian muttered. This was probably all he’d need to blast the other guys – Nick and Brandon included – out of the water. As he got back into his bike, the visions of those guys came into his head…visions of them staring in awe as Ian ran over them like ants on the football field, muscles bulging all over his body. Fuck, he was going to be the top stud…and nothing was going to stop him. •