Pygmalion '68

Dress Rehearsal


By M.U.

Wednesday's workout was uneventful (though, as I should have expected, rather more sore than usual after that three-day gap), and we adjourned to Barry's house when we were finished. As we walked, Barry outlined his ideas for our posing routine; apparently he had stayed up late planning and timing it. The routine would show all the mandatory poses, but would have a sort of dance element to it, with the three of us moving together at times, and at other times in a sequence. He figured it would run about two minutes.

We arrived at Barry's house, and he led us up to his Mom's bedroom, explaining that the room had a wide mirror on the sliding closet door that would be helpful in our rehearsal. The furniture in the room was an impressively opulent collection, and I made some suitably appreciative comment about it. "Yeah," Barry said. "It's called Chippendale."

For the next hour, Barry walked Stan and me through the poses and movements he had spent so much time planning. As he had told us, there was a bit of dance element. We started out in a row, tallest to shortest, with our lats spread, our arms extended and flexing our triceps. In turn, each of us turned around and hit a 'crab' pose. As the routine progressed, sometimes we were doing the same pose in unison, at other times we were doing complementary poses. At one point, I did a front lat-spread while Stan and Barry stood on either side doing side-chest poses, facing away from me. The whole thing ended with each of us in his best pose -- Stan standing in his classic double-bicep pose, with Barry and me kneeling in poses that showed off my back and his legs and narrow waist.

The poses were all pretty familiar, though it took me several awkward tries to reliably get to the kneeling pose without losing my balance. The hard part was keeping track of the whole routine (I decided to write down the whole thing so I could study it later), and learning to do the transition moves smoothly. But after an hour or so, we were able to do the routine start to finish, though we were still doing the poses perfunctorily and without any rhythm; the whole rehearsal had taken place in our street clothes. Still, we had the structure of the routine down, and Barry told us that we'd start getting the timing down tomorrow.

Thursday's workout had a certain edge to it. We wanted to be at our best on Saturday, and were training even more intensely than usual, since Friday was to be a rest day. Jonathan asked us if we were all going to have our posing routines ready for tomorrow, and we all nodded very casually. Stan was particularly emphatic as he replied "Oh yes, *my* routine is going just fine." I guess we weren't too convincing, because Jonathan sort of narrowed his eyes and just said that he was looking forward to it. We assured him that we were too.

As Barry had predicted, by the end of Thursday's rehearsal, we were doing the poses solidly and in rhythm, with Barry calling out a steady beat that he said would be close to the music he expected to use. The run-throughs were in our gym clothes, and the mirror was indispensable in helping us keep the routine together and get the poses just right. Barry told us that Friday afternoon we would have a 'dress' rehearsal, wearing the posing trunks that Jonathan had given us, and that the music would be taped and ready.

Friday arrived, and Stan and I met at Barry's. He took us into his room, explaining that first of all, we'd be doing the rehearsals with oil on our skin, and he didn't want to risk messing up anything in his Mom's room, and second of all, we wouldn't have the mirror to work with when we did the routine in Jonathan's gym, so we might as well get used to doing it 'blind'.

We went up to the room. Barry suggested that we just walk through the routine with the music a few times in street clothes before doing it 'for real' with the oil and posing trunks and everything. He put a tape on his portable tape player (it looked a lot like the ones on Mission: Impossible, and I wondered aloud if it would self-destruct at the end of the tape) and we listened to the music he had chosen: The Doors' "Break on Through". It seemed generally appropriate, and had a strong driving beat that would go well with our routine. He rewound the tape, and then started the player again. We started the routine with the music, and even with Barry calling out the moves with the music, the routine could only be described as a train wreck. I felt frustrated, Stan was laughing, and Barry was sort of sighing as he rewound the tape and said, "OK, we'll just do it again until we get it right."

It turned out that 'until we get it right' required a dozen or more run-throughs and about an hour, including the time for arguing as to who had messed up, and a break for a light protein snack and some water. People think that bodybuilders are just having a nice easy time posing, but to do the poses right requires simultaneously flexing several groups of muscles as strenuously as any workout demands. It is tiring work, and you can see it in the face of any bodybuilder walking off the stage after his presentation. But finally, on what seemed the hundredth time through the tape, we got it right, and without Barry having to call it out like a square-dance leader. "OK," said Barry, "Let's get changed and oiled up and see if we can do this For Real."

We changed into our posing trunks. It was the first time I had seen the others in the trunks, and they looked really good; the trunks fit them snugly and supplely. I hoped I looked the same. Oddly, I wasn't aroused. Perhaps I was too nervous, or perhaps I was just too tired after the hour of rehearsal we had just endured. Barry then brought out a bottle of mineral oil (he said that Thrifty sold it as a laxative or something). He poured a small bit into one cupped hand and started to spread it across his chest, and down his arms. Stan and I followed suit. It was when Barry started oiling his legs that I realized what was different: Barry had shaved his legs, his arms, even his armpits! The usual light coat of light-brown hair had gone, and his legs were as smooth as Stan's or Jonathan's. I felt a little out of place as the only one with hairy legs (and also a bit on my chest), but realized that I could not possibly shave myself that way without raising some very embarrassing questions from my family. Barry asked me to oil his back as I had done with Jonathan a couple of weeks earlier, and then Stan spread oil on my back, commenting how I couldn't really see it, but it really brought out the muscles in my back. I liked the feel of Stan's hands on my back, and had to bend over, take a few deep breaths, and refocus myself to avoid getting stiff in my tight trunks. Barry oiled Stan's back for him and we were ready to go.

Barry started up the tape and took his place in line with Stan and me. We flexed our backs and triceps for an empty chair behind us and then, as the music started, I turned around to hit a 'crab' shot for our imaginary viewer, and our routine began.

It went flawlessly. It was almost mystical; the music cued us to each move, and each of us could sense the others' movements and moved in perfect synchronization. I smiled briefly as I suddenly thought of our group as a 'well-oiled machine'. Pose followed pose, and as Barry and I went to our final kneeling poses, the music faded and it was done.

"Perfect!" Barry shouted. I stood up and looked at Stan, who was grinning at me like crazy.

"We did it!" Stan said, and put his hands around my biceps and squeezed. I smiled at him and flexed my arm, and put my other hand on his shoulder. At that moment, the tip of Stan's erect penis peeked out of the top of his posing trunks. I couldn't help staring. From behind me, I heard Barry's amused voice say, "Ooooops!" I stared at Stan. He blushed, then gave me what could only be described as a lusty grin. I kept staring with what was probably a stupid expression on my face, and Stan's grin fell to an uncertain, searching look. Then he smiled again, rather tentatively, once, twice...

I was just staring at Stan. Here, beyond all expectation, was this handsome blond young teenage man-boy, his steely-hard muscular body gleaming with oil and sweat, smiling at me with a mixture of fondness, lust, and shyness. He was so completely sexy and charming, I did the only thing I could do in a situation like that.

I fainted.

Well, OK, I didn't actually faint, but it was as close as I had ever come to it. My head started to buzz and my vision swam, the way it does sometimes when you stand up too quickly. I took a couple of leaden steps over to where Barry's bed was, and sat down on it heavily, bending my head over my knees. I was only vaguely aware of Barry saying that he'd go get me some water.

As the dizziness subsided, I sat up. Stan was sitting next to me on the bed, one arm across my back, and a look of concern in his face. "Are you all right? What happened?"

I looked at Stan and sort of half-smiled. "Well, I was sort of taken by surprise, I guess. I didn't know you, uh, felt that way about guys -- about *anyone* actually -- much less about me. I mean, I knew you liked me and stuff...I don't know, I guess I kinda forgot how horny *I* got when I was thirteen..." I trailed off, not sure of what to say. Stan saved me the trouble.

"I thought you knew about me! I mean, the way you and Barry are always getting hard in your shorts when Jonathan flexes, I figured you must have noticed my boner for sure..." I must have looked really embarrassed just then, because Stan kind of hesitated and then said, "Well, anyway...of *course* I like you. You're smart, and you're tall, and in high school, and you make funny jokes, and you've built up such great muscles...I just couldn't help myself just then. "

He started to rub my back in an encouraging way, and was smiling his unaccustomed shy smile again. For once, I actually looked at his crotch and saw he was getting stiff again. Well, fair's fair -- I was getting hard again, too. "I don't know how smart I am," I said, "seeing as I'm about the last person to grok what's going on." I turned to Stan and put my hand on his bicep. He flexed that steel sphere for me. "So you knew all along that this... gets me, y'know, horny?" I still felt a little odd talking about this, but was getting very excited at the contact.

Stan nodded. "Well, pretty much. Your muscles do that to me too now." He stroked my bicep, which I flexed for him again. I felt my penis escape from the top of my trunks just as Stan's had done. At that moment, Barry came into the room, a glass of water in his hand. He just grinned at us.

"You seem to be, ah, doing OK after all...if you, um, need anything, I'll be down, um, in the kitchen. " As he headed out the bedroom door, he added, without looking back, "Try not to mess everything up *too* much?" I noticed that he was holding his right fist in a 'thumbs-up' gesture.

Stan and I just grinned at each other, but heeding Barry's advice, pulled off our shorts and put them aside. I pulled Stan against me, my hands rubbing up and down his back; Stan returned the embrace, kneading the muscles of my own back. I rolled him onto his back and began rubbing my dick against his -- a new sensation that made me catch my breath. I felt Stan's hips moving against mine in a complementary movement. Stan grasped my left hand, his fingers interlocked with mine, and started to push. I looked at his face and saw his familiar cocky grin. "Yeah?" I said, and pushed back, matching his strength with mine. I watched the textured muscles of his shoulder and chest tense and strain and flow with the movement as we pushed back and forth. Finally, he surrendered in the mock battle, and again I felt my oiled pecs sliding against the musclekid's -- no, the muscleteen's -- hard chest. He tensed his pecs, 'popping' them against mine in our clinch as his hands again ran up and down my back. I spread my lats and his hands ran lightly along the sides of my back. Somehow my whole skin seemed to be getting more sensitive, and the movement of his hands seemed like an almost unbearable pleasure. For several minutes, our pelvic thrusts grew stronger and faster as each of us felt the other's strong muscles moving and flowing. "Oh, God, MuscleMike! You feel so good! I think I'm..." At that moment I felt a gush of warm fluid coming up from Stan's dick, followed by several lesser pulses. Stan was gasping sort of in rhythm with his still moving hips as his strong arms pulled me tightly against him in an irresistible embrace. In a moment, he relaxed his grip.

I continued rubbing my cock against his and pushed myself up from the bed. "You're the muscleman, Stan! Show me those biceps!" He brought his hands away from my back, and once again did a double-bicep for me on the bed. I grabbed and squeezed the steel muscles with all my strength. "Oh, yeah! Just like that! Those arms, they're so damned...." and finally I shut up as I sprayed milky semen (I had never actually *seen* the fluid before) all over his hard chest. Several times.

We were both panting, and pretty messy. Stan pulled my head to his and kissed me lightly on the mouth, something else that was new to me. I returned the kiss enthusiastically and we both lay on our backs and sighed, holding hands like children.

"You know," I said, "I've never actually done anything like this with anyone before." I squeezed his hand, "Thanks. I never imagined...thanks."

Stan grinned. "Just shut up and get a towel."

I went to the bathroom adjoining Barry's room and wet a towel, wiped myself off and brought it back to Stan. I wiped his chest and abs off slowly with the damp towel, which he seemed to really like. I was surprised to find that I was still horny, and said so.

"Me, too," said Stan, and sure enough, his dick started to grow again under my touch.

"Y'know," I said, "Barry said if we needed anything..."

Stan grinned. "...and his legs do look really sexy shaved like that..."

We both called, "Hey Squat Machine! Could you come up here for a minute?"

About forty minutes later, we were all getting dressed. "Well," said Barry, "I guess we know how to move together pretty well. We should be ready to pose for Jonathan tomorrow."

"I've been thinking about that," I said. "There's one more little thing I'd like to do for Jonathan, if you guys want..."

They liked my idea. •

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