Brent Clayton pushed the doors open to the gym and swaggered inside, eager to get his daily workout done. Brent waved at the front desk babe, who just sighed and rolled her eyes as soon as he was out of eyeshot. Brent was known around there for his...behavior. Officially, Brent had a girlfriend, but unofficially, he and loyalty had barely any sort of relationship. The man had never met a woman there that he didn't want to try and cheat on his girlfriend with. And yet, strangely, Danah - the girlfriend in question - just either waved it off, or claimed that he never treated her badly - as if that justified everything.
Brent perhaps felt like he was owed a certain degree of reverence and attention from the women in the gym - because he was a powerfully muscled, handsome stud, at least going by appearance. He had thick, wavy blond hair, brown eyes, and slightly tanned skin. He was just about starting to use the local tanning parlor - and predictably, he was giving a sizable tip to the young lady that most often worked there on the days he would show up.
That tip was his penis.
Brent enjoyed being fit far more than he had ever enjoyed being a sports player back in high school - so as soon as he had a decent excuse, he quit the team and just focused on doing nonstop bodybuilding exercises. The sensible and capable foundation that he had built absolutely exploded into a build that perhaps made it explicable how some people overlooked his winning personality and smug grins in order to fulfill their physical desires.
Today, Brent had already cheated once already. He had met up with one of his college sweethearts - he treated college more like a place to meet new women than anything resembling a serious academic pursuit - and left her wobbling by the time they finished. But then when he met up with Danah right before the workout, she had been rather oddly foreboding. Brent played it cool and cocky as usual. "Sup, babe." He had said. As he usually did.
She then gave him an admittedly pretty cool necklace that as of now hanged in front of his chest. All she had said to him was that "You make it pretty clear what you want from women. Maybe you should listen in turn to what you want. What men want." Swinging between the fabric on his stringer tank top, the necklace reflected the light and seemed to shimmer constantly. He didn't much care for these kinds of gifts usually, but it looked pretty nice. His track pants hugged his thick, powerfully built quads and thighs, his ass making quite an impression as well. You could even almost see Brent's abs through the material of his tank top when it pulled tight against him.
Honestly, he didn't get why he might need to understand what men wanted. He was a man after all. He knew full damn well what he wanted. And he knew that he was also, in tandem, what women wanted. He couldn't really be blamed for being the jock dreamboat, now could he? Could he really? As far as Brent was concerned, he was just fulfilling people's fantasies. And if that led him astray from some notions of monogamy, that was just too fucking bad.
Brent for now just jangled the necklace around on his neck as he prepared his creatine drink and got his workout gloves on. Wouldn't do to fuck any babes if his hands felt like sandpaper, now would it? As Brent looked around, he noted that it looked like the gym was pretty light today. Not that many people. It meant that he could probably get done all that he really wanted to get done. Lots of compound lifts - he preferred doing all his compounds to start with, then once he was done with those, move on to the more accessory lifts.
And usually, he would have to tamper that down. To keep himself to a certain few exercises due to the realities of working out in a popular gym. At least, a gym that was usually popular. Because holy shit this was just a bad day for them, he figured.
As Brent took a seat on the flat bench and prepped for some plain barbell bench press, he looked around again - and saw one of his repeated fuck buddies setting up shop over by one of the squat racks. Brenda was a curvy, athletic woman - she had amazing tits, and her ass was something else, complimented by her abs, and well muscled legs. She usually had some recent fitness results to share with Brent, in between the two of them fucking the day away.
Brenda knew she was screwing around with a man that was at least in theory taken...and she did not exactly care. And honestly, Brent liked it that way. It wasn't like everybody was all that committed to boring old monogamy any more.
But as Brent sat down and began to warm up - first on a set of empty bar presses just to get his chest limber, he found that his attention was repeatedly being grabbed by the split squats that Brenda was doing today. Hot damn was her booty and legs starting to look good. Brent found that as he racked up some weight on the bar that his chest was starting to burn. Pushing through on bench press at his usual weight for reps, Brent's attention was divvied at first between the two things - between the woman who sustained his attention, and his workout.
Brent before long however found himself struggling with the weight, and realized with wide eyes that he was pushing the weight further and at higher rep ranges than he typically went. He still though tried to push it. Tried to keep himself in that kind of mindset. Maybe being a horny fuck helped him pump iron better. As Brent lifted, he could feel his ass lifting from the bench. Felt a twitching, strange feeling in his thighs, in his quads, and even in his hips and glutes.
The jock thought that he was just registering the posture. Pushing the usual weight, and adjusting his spinal position and hips to take over and help him push the weight as far and as capably as possible. But then as Brent got up, he swore that something seemed different than usual. His posture seemed to adjust to something in the way that he was made - his hips, his thighs, and his glutes... his hips certainly seemed pretty wide today. His thighs were thicker than he ever remembered seeing them. And he knew he had never really---right?
Why then was he remembering being such a fanatic about working out his ass?
He remembered being teased a bit about it by his friends, and even his last few girlfriends told him that they were a little jealous of his thick thighs and big butt. Brent rubbed his forehead and tried to sort things out. Thinking as he sat there that at least he matched the energy of the babe currently still doing split squats. Even as he tried to push himself to remember that he didn't always have these weird looking, vaguely homoerotic features.
Not that he had anything against gay guys. After all, a lot of the people who subscribed to his onlyfans were probably---no, no wait. No! No! He didn't remember having an Onlyfans! Brent shook his head, wondering what was going on, "Do I gotta...do I gotta ask my friends, my bros, about what's going on?" He sighed, "I mean I feel excellent, it's just like...what the fuck is this? Was I always...?" Yet even as his mind hammered it in, he couldn't help but dispute that.
For what he was gonna be doing next with this, Brent decided...