David Lynch

thank you so much for this hot story 🥵

My buddy and I had a bit of a friendly rivalry going on. We were both in the same cycling club and had made a bet on who could place higher throughout the summer racing season. I was leading by a few points by the penultimate race, I am the stronger cyclist after all, but I had tweaked my knee towards the end of the race and the club doctor insisted I end my season early. Of course my buddy, prick that he is, insisted that the last race would still count towards our bet, saying some shit about “cycling is about endurance,” like he wouldn’t be begging to call off the bet if I was still in the race.

Whatever. He could try to beat me but I wasn’t going to make it easy, and even if I couldn’t actually ride I wasn’t going to sit out the last race of the season altogether. See I had this bottle of solution gifted from a former partner that made it possible to merge someone with the clothing they were wearing. This person I was dating had a kink for being objectified, literally, and would use the solution to turn into my underwear or my workout gear. They forgot the solution at my place after spending last week as my socks and I figured they wouldn’t notice if a couple drops went missing.

So the night before the race I took my time doing PT exercises for my knee and slipped into the club lockers after the rest of the team went for dinner. My buddy forgot his lock as usual so I unlatched the locker to see his favourite racing kit hanging ready for tomorrow. I stripped out of my own clothes & stowed them in my locker and stood naked holding the black and red kit. Filling the eyedropper with solution I let three drops fall onto the crotch of the kit and quickly pulled it on before it started to dry. Feeling the pad pushing the damp fabric into my perineum sent a shiver through me and as I pulled the zipper up to my neck I felt an almost electric surge spark through the suit.

I had to act fast, I had seen how quickly the solution would act but I didn’t anticipate the euphoric effects of the process. All I wanted to do was rub my hands along the fabric of the suit as my body was sucked into its fibres but I had to focus. Stowing the bottle of solution into my locker I latched and locked it closed. Then, letting out an involuntary moan as every movement i made in the suit felt like the edge of orgasm, I squeezed my head and shoulders into my buddy’s locker and attempts to slip the arms of the hanger, with quite some difficulty, between the fabric of the suit and my shoulders. It was difficult to manager in the tight space but I was running out of time, the black fabric of the suit weaving it’s way down my arms as my fingers began to shrink away. Just in time I got the hanger secured and I felt myself swing back as my legs, which had been hanging outside the locker, disappeared into the suit. I expected to bang back into the wall of the locker but instead I swung lightly from the hanger, my body already hollowing out as the kit pulled it in. With what was left of my disappearing arm, I nudged the door closed and felt it latch shut, sealing me in darkness.

It was a bit of a head trip hanging from a hanger as a sentient piece of fabric but I tried to stay focused on the task ahead. My awareness had changed - I still had sight but my vision was slightly blurred and was distributed throughout the suit giving me wider awareness. I found that if I concentrated I could expand and contract my fibres slightly. Feeling my own fabric rub against itself caused a thrilling sensation to run through me and I couldn’t help thinking about how amazing it would feel to have my buddy’s body stretching me out and rubbing against me. I tried not to stay focused and not get lost in the fantasy, but what else is an empty cycling kit supposed to do in a dark locker but rub itself raw thinking about how it feels being worn.

The rest of the night stretched on but soon enough I heard the locker unlatch and felt a hand pull me off the hanger. I didn’t know what time it was but my buddy must have been running late because he wasted no time pulling me on and zipping me up. I almost lost my mind feeling his smooth thighs pulling me tight, my zipper holding me close against his torso and my pad caressing his— okay focus. I could see why my partner was into this, I might have to ask him to switch roles after I get him back his solution. But my buddy was taking his place with the team, I felt our teammates slapping his back as they traded words of encouragement, one of them tapped his ass affectionately and I felt my buddy’s cock chub up a bit against me. Filed that one away for a later razzing.

The gun went off and the team took off, my buddy jostling for a spot near the front of the peloton. I felt determination rippling through him, he would have to finish in the top two spots to gain enough points to win our bet so no room for missteps. But a misstep was exactly what I was hoping to create and, wrenching my attention away from how good my pad felt squished against him by the bike seat, I got to work. I focused every fibre of my being on squeezing his left thigh, trying to make him cramp. I held on for several minutes while his hamstrings pumped inside me as he snuck closer to the front of the race. No luck, the extra compression seemed, if anything, to help him pump harder. I tried to focus on his right shoulder instead, pulling tight around his shoulder blade and socket to tip him off balance but all I managed to do was to wedge myself tighter into his armpit. He was still pulling ahead, having broken out of the peloton and drafting the front group of four cyclists. I had to find some way to through him off before he climbed further.

Then I let my attention drift to the place I had been avoiding. His balls, nestled in my pad and his cock resting flaccid against my fabric. Just one blow to the testicles would be enough to take him out but I didn’t have that kind of control. I would have to be gentler. Instead of squeezing like I had with his muscles I gently tightened and loosened my fibres around him in a delicate massage. It worked immediately, his cock clubbing up slightly against my tight lycra.

It was strange how intimately I could feel his concentration break, his shoulder muscles tensing inside me as he realized with a mix of horror and perverted pleasure that he was starting to get hard. I loved how flustered I had made him and redoubled my efforts, squeezing myself rhythmically against his cockhead as it began to peek upwards and out from under my pad. I noticed with pleasure that he was starting to slip backwards and he did to, he tried to adjust his position on the seat to calm his growing distraction but the movement just threw off his cadence and gave me more opportunity to tease him. I was surprised how much I enjoyed feeling his muscles squirm against me, his cock twitching in protest and pleasure inside my fabric — not in a sexual way of course, I was just enjoying how hard I made him, I mean how hard I made the RACE for him.

Because of my distraction he was far behind the four leaders by the time we approached the straightaway into the finish, there was no way he would win the bet this way. But just as it seemed I had won I felt him stand up on his bike like he was climbing a mountain, pushing harder than he had the full race. It was obvious to me that he was trying to keep my padding from pushing into him and arousing him, but I wasn’t going to give up without a fight. As he surged up towards the leaders I flexed every fibre I had, pushing my pad against his perineum and cupping his balls, vibrating against the length of his cock but he kept surging, passing the fourth place cyclist and then the third with only 500 meters to go. I could feel his embarrassment soaking into me with his sweat as the cheering crowd watched him, fully erect inside me and standing upright on his bike where everyone could see. I pressed against him in every way I could as he pulled up aside the second place cyclist and buzzed over the finish line just a hair ahead.

I could feel his chest heaving with pride after the race as he gulped air and slapped the backs of his fellow cyclist. I could only feel disgust and disappointment as he reached down and touched my fabric, pushing his still hard cock down against his thigh in an attempt to hide it. But as he and the other medalists approached the podium, I saw one more opportunity to exact revenge. He may have won the bet but I wasn’t defeated yet.

As he climbed to the second place position I went full tilt on him again: rubbing myself against his nipples and massaging the length of his beautiful cock, I mean his pathetic cock, right. He let out an audible grunt of surprise and jerked his hips forward involuntarily, causing the other medalists to look over in confusion. I felt his ass clench as I pushed my pad up against his hole, trying to hit every erogenous zone. I knew he would be exhausted from all the edging during the race and it wouldn’t be long before he gave into me. Sure enough, just as he reached his hands cautiously away from covering his crotch to take the medal being presented to him I gave his cockhead one last rubbing and he gasped aloud, involuntarily lurching forward and grabbing the shoulder of the presenter to steady himself as a visible wet spot bloomed through my tight fabric to the shock of the presenters, medalists, and gathered crowd. Mission accomplished.

“What the fuck just happened?” I heard him think

“Oh my god he completely soaked me, I can even taste his cum.” I thought

“Wait, I recognize that voice,” I heard him think again, “who is that?”

“Wait, he can hear me think? How does that work?”

“Oh my god it’s you!” He thought, “couldn’t just accept defeat so you used inanimation solution to try to stop me from winning our bet. How pathetic.”

“Hey, I’m not the one standing in front of a crowd of people with cum leaking through your suit. How do you know about the solution anyway?”

“I’m not the one who turned into fabric just to jerk off their rival, you could have just asked. And as far as the solution, I’ve played around with it — obviously you haven’t or you’d know that either party coming to orgasm forges a telepathic connection between clothing and wearer.”

“You kinky bastard, when this solution wears off I’m going to beat your ass. Bet’s off man!”

“Sure maybe I’m a bit kinky, but it seems you might be as well. And as far as the solution wearing off, you won’t turn back until you’re off someone’s body for at least an hour - and I don’t plan on taking you off any time soon. In fact, maybe I’ll spill a couple more loads into you before I rinse you off in the shower.”

With that I fell silent and he stepped off the podium, embarrassed yes, but vindicated as well. And when I saw the open mouthed stares ogling my cum-soaked fabric, it felt like their looks of disgust were directed, not at him, but at me.

Many thanks to @fullgear1215 for the story idea and for the photos 😇

Via flickr https://www.flickr.com/photos/markmaciel/38508733715

Cable Curls - Thirsty Version

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Wrote a story

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“Damn, already??? …ok little guy. Save it for later.” Pro cyclist Nils chuckled nervously to himself and adjusted the growing manhood inside his grey skinsuit as he wheeled his bike up to the registration table at today’s big race event. Due to some recent wins in the community, he’d started to get more attention at these things. It usually wasn’t an issue but lately he’d had a dry stretch in the bedroom, and seeing all the pro cyclists in gear made his junk start to swell. His muscular thighs already pushed everything forward into the too-tight pouch of his Lycra suit. He wasn’t crazy about the idea of finding high-res pics on his favorite cycling sites showing his hard-on, impressive as it was.

Nils was nervous for this race. It was the final stage of a four part series, and he’d been tirelessly working to earn a #2 spot overall against his lead rival, Stefan. Not only that, but he was one of the few gay cyclists out on the scene. He felt pressure to perform well for the LGBTQ press following his progress too.

“Ok. Lemme pee and just warm up. That’ll make this swelling go down… damn.” After checking in, Nils stopped by the restrooms before his warm up ride. He left his bike at the rack by the door and slipped inside.

Stefan watched Nils from nearby. He’d been waiting for this moment. As soon as Nils went into the restroom, Stefan casually walked up and dropped his bike by Nils’ at the rack. He leaned down as if to fix his shoe. In a moment, he switched the water bottles on Nils’ bike with a pair of identical ones on his own bike.

Stefan was also gay, but he was not out. His crush on Nils had turned into jealousy of Nils’ athletic achievement and being able to come out. He’d devised a plan to sabotage Nils in a particularly humiliating way.

The water bottles Stefan installed on Nils’ bike were laced with a combination of Viagra and Dapoxetine, a drug for men with Premature Ejaculation that prevented climax for several hours. Stefan’s cock jumped as imagined the effect it would have on the heroically muscular Nils in his revealing light grey skinsuit.

Nils came out of the restroom and took a long swig from his water bottles to replace all the fluids he’d just expelled. “Damn, still so nervous. Lemme just warm up and get out of my head,” he thought- and headed to the nearby warmup course.

As Nils pedaled through the short course, the blood started flowing through his system. He couldn’t shake the vision of all the hot cyclists in their Lycra. He scolded himself- it was hard enough being a gay cyclist who was out. Normally he prided himself on his focus on performance and ability to think beyond his dick. But the more he tried to focus on warming up, the harder his dick seemed to throb inside his tight race skinsuit.

“Fuck fuck fuck. This is seriously not the time. Why can’t my dick behave!” Nils’ heart beat faster, he felt desperate to not have this happen in the one afternoon he needed to perform on the bike.

Nils ended his warmup early and rushed to find a larger private bathroom. His rock hard erection had only gotten worse, and he was worried about the ten very public minutes he would spend waiting at the front of the pack at the start line. “I’ve gotta take care of this massive hard-on before the race… or those fucking paparazzi will have a field day.”

In the safety of the bathroom, Nils first tried to think of other things to calm his excitement. He pulled out his phone and read the news headlines, his history course assignment, even his family text thread. But his cock jutted out angrily against the Lycra, a sensation which sent ripples of pleasure through his body.

So Nils tried another method. He pulled up his favorite amateur porn compilation of hot guys cumming by accident before they wanted too. He furiously beat his meat, trying to eak out an orgasm to tame this crazy horniness. He usually tried not to cum before a race, as he thought it drained his testosterone- but he felt he had no choice.

Unfortunately, the more Nils jacked on his impressively thick cock, the bigger and harder it got. “What the actual fuck. Why can’t I cum!!” He’d never experienced this. He had spit into his dick and braced it on the sink so he could fuck into it, but he could not even get close to cumming. Impatient racers were knocking on the door- nobody wanted to piss their suit in front of the race audience. Nils tried holding his breath- but no matter what he did, his body would not orgasm. The pleasure made him dizzy but no climax could be had.

Nils’ phone buzzed with a text from his friend. He was due at the start line in two minutes. Frustrated and anxious, Nils did what he could to stuff his enormous hard cock into his skinsuit and zip back up. “Maybe if I move quickly I can get to the start and just hide it until we are moving,” he thought.

Nils quickly strode through the frantic crowd to the start line. His impressive package jutted out awkwardly against his skinsuit’s pouch. The friction of the material stretched to its max, rubbing back and forth over his dickhead as he walked, caused more waves of pleasure Nils tried to ignore. He looked down in horror at a massive patch of Precum growing around the area where his cock poked, making every line even more visible to the eye.

Suddenly he heard someone say his name- he looked left just as a bright camera flash went off from a press photographer, accompanied by several others next to it. “Fuck! Cmon guys, not like this!” He exclaimed as he rushed past.

Finally at the start line, Nils took a deep breath and mounted his bike. Unfortunately with all the cyclists moving behind him, he needed both hands on the bars to keep steady in his spot. Next to him, Stefan wheeled up and gave a sly smile.

“Hey Nils! Guess we’re at our final stage. How are you feeling? Ready for…” he looked down at Nils’ jutting package and smirked… “the final push?”

Nils heard Stefan but couldn’t look him in the face, he was so embarrassed. Instead he kept his eyes down, but Stefan’s white skinsuit revealed impressive lean muscles and a perky package of his own. Nils’ cock jumped again.

“Ye-Yeah Stefan. I’m… it’s… good luck man.”

Nils could barely get words out. His entire crotch ached with a need for release. He saw photographers arriving to take pics of the starting line and he made a final effort to adjust his package, but the pressure on his cock just made him spurt another pulse of precum which actually emerged from the Lycra and ran down the front of his crotch pad. He saw photographers point their lenses at him. “Fuck my life. Don’t show me leaking like this…”

Finally, the officials gave the signal to get ready for the start. Nils mounted the saddle. Within a minute, they were off.

The race went by fast but Nils’ heart pounded with the adrenaline rush of the effort, plus his exposure and sexual arousal. He was able to use it to his advantage and take a decent lead over the pack, maintaining the lead position. But somehow his cock was still hard, and still catching against the tight Lycra of his skinsuit. The overstimulation was almost burning his dick but he had no choice but to keep going. The precum situation looked like someone had spilled a cup of water on his lap. With each motion of his legs up and down, the friction on his dick was agonizingly pleasurable and teasing.

The final stretch of the race was a long uphill straightaway. This was Nils’ main weakness. His muscular body was built on sprints, not endurance climbs. He could hear cyclists behind him, and suddenly, heard the characteristic whistle breathing of Stefan, right at his side.

Nils poured all his last effort into the remaining meters before the finish line. His legs exploded with pain as he pushed as hard as he could to break away from the pack of cyclists at his back. And it was working! He was pulling away.

The problem was that it was having an effect on his manhood too. His entire body tensed up as he strained as hard as he could to pump the pedals faster. His tight perineum was bouncing on the hard seat, sending aches of pleasure though his groin. Incredibly, he felt cum boiling in his hefty balls, threatening to explode out at any minute.

He gritted his teeth. “God fucking damnit. Just have to make it a little further. Cmon Nils.”

He heard breathing on his left and right. The pack had caught up. Nils gritted his teeth and begged his muscles to push even harder. His heart felt like it was about to explode.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, Nils broke ahead again. The finish line approached, but so did his impending orgasm. As he pedaled the final meters, he felt his taint heave with the start of an orgasm. “RrrrrrawrruuUUGAAAH!” Neil screamed as a massive load erupted from his burning dick. At that exact moment he flew threw the finish line.

The crowd screamed his name. “NILS!!!”

As he slowed down, he was breathing so hard he had to sit up and open his chest. Reaching for his water he noticed a pool of white cum on his crotch. “Fuck… NO.” He tried to wipe it off with the back of his hand when he retrieved his water bottle, but it just spread further over his heaving mound.

At that moment his coach and two officials grabbed him off his bike and ushered him to the podium. “You fucking did it Nils! You’re amazing. I can’t believe it.”

In a moment without his control, Nils was delivered to the podium stage. He tried to turn back and leave, but the other cyclists were climbing up too. “Amazing man!! But uh… I think you should clean up…” Stefan snickered at the huge cum patch staining the top left of Nils’ beautiful skinsuit.

Just then the official came on the loudspeaker. “Gentlemen, prepare to receive your trophies!”

With dread in his heart, Nils turned back to the crowd. Stefan pushed him to the front of the stage. Nils saw every pair of eyes widen at his messy package.