CHOCOLATE POURING
The big guy didn’t usually let people rub food on him. He was strict about his program: lift heavy, eat clean, sleep, repeat. No gimmicks. But three chocolate guys caught him after leg day and said they’d invented high protein recovery chocolate. You don’t drink it, they said. You coat the muscles and it absorbs fast. Zero bloat. Full transfer. Sounded like bullshit, but they were cute and very eager, so he followed them into the back kitchen.
The shop was closed. They put him on his knees on the work table, hands down, back arched, ass up in tiny posing briefs. He knew exactly what he looked like. Judging by how their mouths hung open, so did they.
“It’s amino boosted,” said the short one . “Like protein powder but refined. The fibers open and pull it in.”
“It also helps circulation,” said the taller one, both hands already on the big guy’s hips like that was medical.
“For muscle,” added the smiling one, staring right at the big guy’s ass.
The one with glasses brought a little metal pitcher. The stuff inside didn’t look like normal chocolate. Dark, shiny, almost black, moving slow like oil.
“How hot is that?” the big guy asked.
“Body temp,” short said. “Safe. Also edible.”
That last word made the smiling one cough.
The big guy smirked. “Go on then.”
The first pour hit the top of his traps and slid down his spine.
It wasn’t just warm. It felt alive. It crawled under his skin and spread everywhere the stream touched. More followed, over his shoulders, across his chest, along the deep line of his lower back, then down over the round curve of his ass. It pooled at the waistband of his shorts and crept under.
His breathing changed. They all heard it.
“You good?” the tall one asked, voice already rough.
“Oh, I’m good,” the big guy said. His own voice sounded heavy now.
Heat rolled low in his stomach and dropped between his legs. His skin felt too sensitive. Air across his thighs and the front of his shorts lit him up. He could feel their eyes like hands. He could feel his pulse, hard and needy, pushing against fabric.
“What’d you put in this?” he asked.
“Maca,” short guy said. “Cacao isolate. A tiny amount of enhancer.”
“Enhancer,” the big guy repeated. “Say it. You mean horny chocolate.”
Nobody argued.
The tall one squeezed his hips, thumbs pressing into thick meat. The smiling one drifted closer, licking his lips without noticing. Glasses just stared at the way the chocolate shined on every groove and cut.
“So here’s what’s gonna happen,” the big guy said, rolling his hips back slow, making all three of them gasp. “You’re gonna finish coating me for recovery. Then you’re all gonna help with cooldown. Nobody goes home until I stop throbbing. Clear?”
They nodded way too fast.
“Good,” he said, grinning over his shoulder, slick and desperate now. “Keep pouring.”
The chocolate kept flowing, dripping down his body, coating every inch. The big guy’s cock strained against his briefs, leaking precum. The three chocolate guys watched, their eyes hungry, their breaths ragged.
“Fuck, you’re all so eager,” the big guy teased, his voice low and thick with desire. “Come on, don’t be shy. Show me what you’ve got.”
The one with glasses was the first to act. He stepped forward, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the big guy’s shorts. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled them down, revealing the big guy’s thick, hard cock. The other two followed suit, their eyes locked on the sight before them.
“Holy shit,” the tall one breathed, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re huge.”
The big guy chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound. “And all yours, if you want it. That's tastier than the chocolate that you poured on me."
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