NOTE: For those of you joining us for the first time, this story is a vignette from Rubirosa's series "
Cock Star
." The chronicle focuses upon the private life of a public figure.
As the most accomplished porn star of modern times, SAMSON lives out popular male sex fantasies on a daily basis. This story focuses on our hero's early adventures when he was just a bodybuilding playboy by the name of LANCE LEO.
Lance has just turned 18. The high school dropout smokes pot and races motorcycles. He listens to hip-hop but prefers heavy metal bands. Lance wears Magnum XL condoms and can sleep with any woman he desires. This is his story.
"So how does it feel to be married?" asked Amy.
Nicole didn't answer right away. Fortunately, she was speaking to Amy on the phone so her girlfriend didn't see her disgusted expression.
"It's great," she lied, trying to muster a modicum of enthusiasm. "You know, stable. The house is just beautiful."
Nicole liked the McMansion just fine. The problem was the husband that lived inside of it. She wasn't going to lie... at least to herself. Bob was on the wrong side of 50 with a beer gut and a small dick. In exchange for becoming his trophy wife, she had obtained a level of comfort and security that most guys couldn't offer. But no more than a couple weeks after the honeymoon, Nicole already suffered from a case of buyer's remorse.
Fortunately, Bob had to go on an urgent business trip to Asia that would take at least a month. In the meantime, Nicole had the run of his spacious home outside Peoria. They had met, dated, and married in Chicago and she never stayed at his place before.
"Nicole?" Amy finally asked. "Are you listening?"
Nicole was soooo not listening to Amy right now. She was mourning her marriage.
"Oh, sorry," Nicole told her friend. "What were you saying?"
Amy prattled on about so-and-so and something while Nicole found her attention straying to the full-length mirror in her bedroom. She got out of the bed where she had slept until 11am today. Clad only in white lace panties, the former lingerie model stood before the mirror to admire herself. Nicole looked pretty amazing, not just for a 40-year old but even for a 20-year old.
The hourglass brunette resembled Jacqueline Bisset in her prime but with one key difference. She had a mammoth rack. Nicole's modeling career might have gone farther had she not been so well-endowed. Most lingerie houses didn't manufacture bras in her cup size and that made it impossible for her to model their goods. During one shoot, the fit had been so tight that her chest literally busted out of a DD-cup bra, tearing the garment asunder. After that, she quit the fashion business and became a bartender. She met Bob at work and he became her retirement package.
"Moon to Nicole?" announced Amy in a sing-song voice. "Are you there?"
"Oh, sorry."
"C'mon, girl. Tell me what's going on? You're so preoccupied."
"OK. I'll tell you," she lied. Nicole had no intention of burdening her friend with the ugly truth. She barely could live with it herself. So Nicole decided to bring up something plausible but not quite as horrible.
"Listen, Amy. This is really confidential." she whispered. "Bob never asked me to visit him in Peoria. I just found out why."
"Spill, honey," Amy encouraged her.
"He has a stepson from his previous marriage. Bob didn't divorce his wife. She died."
"That's so sad."
"It happened a long time ago so the kid has recovered. But he and his father do not get along. I think it's like the usual rebellious teenager kind of stuff."
"Gotcha. I was a teenager once too."
"But here's what is so crazy. Bob was supposed to introduce me to his stepson after we got married. But he had to leave town on emergency business so now I'm here and the kid's here. We haven't met before."
"Hmmm. Sounds awkward."
"No, it's even worse. Bob told me to avoid him completely."
"How? Don't you live in the same house together?"
"He lives in the pool house out back. And Bob told me emphatically that I should not let him inside the main house
under any circumstances
."
"What is he going to do? Raid the liquor cabinet or something?"
"I have no idea. In fact, I haven't seen him since I got here two days ago. But I have the feeling Bob wants to kick him out because he is 18 now."
"What's his name?"
"Lance."
"Kind of a sexy name, don't you think?"
Suddenly, Nicole heard the not-so-distant rumble of a motorcycle. The noise grew louder until the whole house seemed to vibrate.
"Hold on," Nicole told Amy, rushing over to the window. "I'll call you right back."
The master bedroom overlooked the secluded backyard. Enclosed by a wrought-iron fence and tall trees, the 4-acre lot contained a fire pit, gazebo, outdoor shower as well as the obligatory pool. The pool house stood at the opposite end of the yard not far from the back entrance to the property.
The motorized gate beeped and slid open. On the other side, a buff dude on a Harley revved his motor before cruising into the backyard. He coasted up the dirt path that led to the pool house. Nicole didn't see him up close but she saw enough to form an overall impression.
The first thing she noticed was his arms as he piloted the motorcycle toward the pool house. The teen wore a black AC/DC tank top that showcased his
massive
guns. And with his arms held straight on the handlebars of his cycle, the triceps flexed from the back as much as his biceps did out front. His limbs were not just huge but perfectly sculpted without an ounce of fat.
Lance parked his bike in front of the pool house and dismounted. He took off his helmet and shook out his wild mane of long jet-black hair. It flowed over his shoulders halfway down his back. A guy like him could have fronted a heavy metal band. Even without a guitar or a drum kit as a prop, he possessed a natural rock star vibe or what new age-y folk might call "an aura."
Before Nicole could take in anything more, the handsome stranger went inside.
However, two seconds later, he came out again with a can of Budweiser. He popped open the tab, chugged the beer, and hurled it over the fence. Nicole had a feeling a big pile of empty cans lay on the other side. She wasn't wrong.
The pool house had a small patio in front. A bench press and various weights occupied most of that area. The teen picked up a few steel plates off the ground and racked them onto the barbell. Each of them weighed at least 50 or 75 pounds. Her wimp husband probably couldn't have lifted a single plate, let alone the 400-pound load the teenage bodybuilder lay down to bench.
Nicole counted his reps. Lance lifted the weight smoothly and swiftly, without jerking or showing the slightest strain. Finally, he set the barbell back into the rack with a loud clang. A few moments later, he did another set. And another. And another. At long last, Lance got up from the bench press and wiped the sweat off his brow. Still unaware of Nicole, he tore off his tank top.
His musclebound torso was like kryptonite for her pussy. Nicole could not believe an 18-year old could be so physically developed. As the teen cooled off from his weightlifting, she actually could see his sculpted pecs and abs expand and contract with each intake of breath. Even from across the vast backyard, she felt drawn to him like a magnet.
Before the teen Adonis could continue his workout, his cell phone rang. He pulled it out. Nicole couldn't hear the conversation but her intuition told her a girl had called. Lance talked for a few minutes before hopping onto his bike and barreling out of the backyard just as quickly as he had arrived.
Nicole actually found herself panting. That's how bad she wanted him. She finally left her surveillance post at the window and went downstairs to the living room. Another set of stairs led to Bob's home office in the basement. Nicole already has nosed through the file cabinets where her husband kept his will, life insurance, and other financial records.
Only one drawer had been locked. The label read "Lance."
Nicole found a paperclip on the mahogany desk and went to work. She picked it in a jiffy.
The first binder contained his school records. He received D's and F's in everything but gym class. She also skimmed correspondence from the principal's office. Because Lance showed incredible athletic promise, the administration let him play on the football team despite his being on academic probation.
Nicole pulled out a thick manila folder of disciplinary reports. Lance got cited for a variety of classic offenses: truancy; fistfights; and smoking weed in the boy's room. Nicole could not believe he had not been expelled already. Bob definitely greased a lot of palms to keep things quiet.
The next binder must have been an inch thick. It contained various medical reports. The first document included his vital stats from a sports medicine clinic:
Name: Lance Leo
Age: 18
Race: White