Shane and his Muscle-Belt



By Jason Jarman

When Shane Hardin strutted down the halls of Palmdale High School, he knew he had the respect of everyone in his sight. Standing six feet tall, Shane had everything but brains. In his case, it didn't matter.

Shane's face looked thuggish and pretty at the same time. Under his parted, floppy sandy-brown bangs, his green eyes smoldered with an easy, sleepy sexual charge. His nose turned up slightly, with wide, flaring nostrils that gave way to a set of full, lush red lips. A scruffy growth of blondish beard covered the edge of his jutting chin.

Shane had been working out for three years, and it showed over every inch of his 18 year-old body. His body naturally responded to the benefits of pumping iron. His thick neck gave way to wide, broad shoulders. His pecs were well- defined and stood high and firm. The taper from his 46" chest to his 28" waist was impressive, as were his firm, rounded 18" biceps.

Shane loved being desired by other people. He loved to show his body off. His usual school-wear consisted of a tight T-shirt and tighter jeans, either black denim or black leather. A tight black leather belt, with a big square buckle, accentuated his slender, rocky waist. He picked his T-shirts so that his biceps squeezed and strained the sleeves. Five or six times a day, some girl (or even boy) would ask him to “make a muscle.” Smiling, Shane always obliged. By the fifth flex of his veiny biceps, his shirtsleeves would begin to split. Shane went through a lot of T-shirts during the school year. All this attention kept Shane’s cock semi-hard; his tight pants barely reined in the straining bulge.

Palmdale High had its share of muscular, athletic boys. Several juniors and seniors were serious body-builders. A couple of them, unlike Shane, competed in posing tournaments. Shane had been invited to one competition, but it didn't interest him. Shane felt he had nothing to prove.

What made Shane a legend at Palmdale happened during a locker room argument after gym class one afternoon. Rich Boyce, a member of the varsity baseball team, started the incident: "No way, man! You're a liar!"

"Way, man," Jack Kendall said. "I measured it last night. My cock's eight inches when it's really hard."

"Prove it, dude," another boy said. He got a foot-long plastic ruler from his backpack. "Whip out yer cock."

Jack hesitated, but the other boys weren't going to let this pass. "Pump it up! Pump it up!" Jack stroked his cock and concentrated. Then Shane came into view and Jack found himself able to get a hard-on. There was something about Shane...

Within a minute, Jack's cock was thick, hard and high. The blood-engorged head shined in the locker-room light. Rich Boyce did the honors, holding Jack's rigid cock up to the ruler. "Wow, dude! You're nearly nine inches! Who'da thought it?"

Jack beamed, his hard-on still standing tall. "I guess I got the biggest cock in this locker room!"

Pride of this sort is a big thing with teenage boys, and the mood of the crowd changed from admiration to sneering doubt. "OK, dude, let's have us a contest. Anybody here wanna pump up and see if they're bigger'n Jack-off?"

The boys laughed. "You do it, Rich," one said. They laughed again and the challenge passed to Rich: "Pump it up! Pump it up!"

Rich thought of his girl friend and got his cock hard and thick. The ruler proved his hard-on to be just short of seven inches. "Loser!" one boy shouted.

"Let me try," a black-haired boy said. To his (and the crowd's) surprise, his full hard-on measured seven and three-quarters.

"Anyone else in here?" Rich said, his face red with fallen pride. All eyes turned to Shane. "Hey, muscle-boy, let's see how you measure up!"

"Aw," Shane said. "I don't wanna, dude."

"You got to, dude," Rich said.

Rich tore Shane's towel off his torso. Shane's limp cock hung down. Flaccid, it was clearly longer than Jack's hard-on. Rich confirmed this by measuring the soft cock. "Nine inches on the nose! Dude!"

"You got to pump up your dick now!" the black haired boy said. The chorus began again. "Pump it up! Pump it up!"

Shane gave in, and thought of his workout buddy, Kevin Thorson. The image of Kevin's peaked, 20-inch biceps, covered with thick blue veins, gave Shane sufficient ammo to quickly get his cock up to peak performance level.

The crowd gasped. Rich's hands trembled as he held the ruler up to Shane's cock. "Holy shit! Your dick's longer than the fuckin ruler, dude!"

It was true. The head of Shane's throbbing, rigid cock fully cleared the edge of the ruler, by half an inch.

The sight of such a magnificent erection caused the boys to forget, for a moment, their supposed sexual preference, and as one, they began to stroke their cocks. Even Rich joined in.

“Hey, Shane, make a muscle,” the black-haired boy said.

“Like this?” Shane flexed his gun. The peak on his biceps was astounding.

“Oh yeah, dude. Show us some more.”

Shane obliged with a side chest shot that accentuated his heaving, vein-studded pecs. Next was a hands-behind-head abs pose. Then Shane flexed both his guns. He felt Jack Kendall’s eyes roaming his body. Jack was pumping his cock fiercely. Shane’s cock got even harder. “I gotta take care a this,” Shane said with a grin.

“I’ll do it,” the black-haired boy said. Shane was surprised when the boy gave him his very first blowjob. The boy eagerly throated Shane’s cock, and his velvety lips and throat sent waves of new pleasure through Shane’s whole body.

“Oh, dude,” Shane said with a smile.

The other boys looked admiringly onto him. "Dude, you deserve it… you're the king of cock," Jack said with a smile. “A hella muscle boy.” Then he began to groan, and his fragrant white cum shot up and down the BJ boy’s back, and on Shane's chest and stomach. Rich was next; his shots hit Shane's thighs and navel, just missing Shane's golden navel ring.

Shane felt the massive rush and screamed with pleasure. The boy fucked Shane with his mouth. Shane’s first shot made the black-haired boy nearly choke. He gasped and Shane’s cock flew out of his mouth. The boy kept pumping. Shane’s next shot went all over his face. The other shots decorated Jack and Rich and anyone else within firing range. Shane came in long, thick spurts, one after another, for nearly a minute.

"Well, I'm gonna be late for my next class," Shane said. "I got to take another shower!"

From that moment on, Shane Hardin was the alpha boy at Palmdale. His general sweet nature kept him from ever bullying other boys. The coaches were always after him to join the football team, or the wrestling squad. Shane was content to work out five days a week, for his own satisfaction. Little did he realize he was destined for far greater things! •

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