My phone buzzes on my desk around three in the afternoon.
Zayn: Can you do me a favor? Need someone to drop off some contracts to the boys at the loft. They're all out on calls right now but should be back later. Just leave them on the kitchen counter.
I stare at the message, my heart rate picking up.
The loft.
I've heard about it from the guys—the luxury penthouse condo where Zayn houses all the HMB Services employees. Tyler mentioned it during our "policy review." Randy talked about it at the pool party. But I've never actually been there.
Me: Sure, no problem. What's the address?
Zayn sends me the details—a high-end condo building downtown, penthouse level. He also sends a key code for the private elevator.
I grab the stack of contracts from my desk—new employee agreements for some of the Himb & Co. hires—and head out.
The condo building is exactly what I expected: sleek, modern, expensive. Floor-to-ceiling windows, marble lobby, a doorman who nods at me as I walk past. I take the elevator to the top floor, punching in the key code Zayn sent me.
The elevator doors open directly into the penthouse.
And holy fuck.
The space is massive—open-concept, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The furniture is high-end: a huge sectional couch in charcoal gray, a glass coffee table, a massive flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Everything is clean, modern, and clearly expensive.
But what really catches my attention are the walls.
They're covered in art.
Homoerotic art.
Huge framed portraits of shirtless jocks in various poses—some flexing, some laughing, some with their hands on each other's shoulders or waists. The images are artistic, tasteful, but undeniably sexual. One portrait shows a guy in nothing but tight white briefs, his hand resting on his bulge. Another shows two guys on a beach, one standing behind the other with his arms wrapped around his waist.
I recognize some of the faces. Tyler. Marcus. Randy. Connor.
These are portraits of the HMB Services guys.
I walk further into the loft, taking it all in.
The kitchen is to my left—a massive space with granite countertops, stainless steel appliances, and an island in the center. The counters are lined with supplements: pre-workout, creatine, protein powders, BCAAs. There are stacks of meal prep containers in the fridge, all labeled with names and dates.
Everything about this place screams wealth and control. Zayn has created the perfect environment for his himbos—a luxury space where they can live, train, and bond together.
I set the contracts down on the kitchen counter, glancing around.
The place seems empty. All the guys must be out on calls, just like Zayn said.
I'm about to leave when I hear something.
A voice.
Hushed. Soft. Coming from one of the bedrooms down the hall.
I freeze, listening.
Another voice. Deeper. Familiar.
My curiosity gets the better of me.
I move quietly down the hallway, my footsteps silent on the hardwood floor. There are several doors—most of them closed—but one is slightly ajar, light spilling out into the hallway.
I approach slowly, my heart pounding.
And then I peek inside.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
Tyler is in bed.
He's sitting up against the headboard, his massive body on full display. His lower half is covered by a white blanket, but his upper half is completely naked. His huge pec tits look even more massive in this lighting—thick, rounded, with puffy nipples that are slightly hard. His arms are behind his head, biceps flexed, and his handsome jock face is soft and relaxed.
He looks like a god.
And cuddled up against him is Jett.
Jett is also naked, his smooth tanned body pressed against Tyler's side. His blond hair is messy, falling into his eyes, and his plump lips are curved into a small, worried frown. He looks so small next to Tyler—delicate, beautiful, vulnerable.
Tyler is running his hand through Jett's hair, his fingers gentle and soothing.
"I just... I don't know if I'm doing a good enough job," Jett says, his voice soft and uncertain. "Like, what if Zayn thinks I'm too dumb? What if I don't make the cut to become one of the HMB Services guys?"
My cock twitches.
They have no idea I'm here.
"Dude, you're doing amazing," Tyler says, his voice warm and reassuring. "Seriously, Jett. All the guys love you. You're, like, everyone's favorite new addition."
Jett looks up at Tyler, his blue eyes wide and hopeful. "Really?"
"Really," Tyler says, smiling. "You're super smart, bro. And you're learning all the techniques so fast. Zayn's gonna be stoked."
Jett's face lights up, and he shifts slightly, moving to straddle Tyler's lap.
The blanket slides down a little, and I can see more now.
Jett's smooth bubble butt—two perfect, round globes with tan lines from his tight red shorts. And beneath him, barely covered by the blanket, is Tyler's cock. It's already hard, thick and long, pressing up against Jett's ass.
Jett places his hands on Tyler's massive pecs, his fingers spreading across the firm muscle.
"You really think I'm smart?" Jett asks, his voice still uncertain.
Tyler slides his big hands over Jett's bubble butt, squeezing gently. "Dude, you're, like, super smart. I know it."
Jett bounces playfully on Tyler's lap, and the blanket slides down even further.
Now I can see everything.
Jett's smooth, pink hole. Tyler's huge cock sliding back and forth between Jett's cheeks as Jett grinds on him.
Jett giggles—that sweet, dopey giggle—and leans down to kiss Tyler.
The kiss is deep and messy, their tongues tangling together, and I watch as the blanket falls completely off the bed.
Jett is hot-dogging Tyler's cock now, his bubble butt globes sliding up and down the thick shaft. Tyler's cock is leaking pre-cum, making everything slick and wet, and Jett moans into the kiss.
They have no idea how gay this is.
They think this is just "training and bonding."
My cock is rock hard in my pants, and I reach down, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling it out. I start stroking slowly, my eyes locked on the scene in front of me.
These two dumb, horny himbos are completely oblivious.
Jett breaks the kiss and starts moving down Tyler's body.
He kisses Tyler's neck, then his collarbone, then his chest. When he reaches Tyler's pecs, he pauses, his eyes lighting up with excitement.
"Your chest is so big," Jett says, his voice filled with awe.
He leans down and starts slobbering all over Tyler's pecs, his tongue licking and lapping at the firm muscle. He takes one of Tyler's puffy nipples into his mouth and sucks hard, and Tyler groans, his head falling back against the headboard.
"Fuck, Jett," Tyler moans. "That feels so good."
Jett pulls off with a wet pop and moves to the other nipple, sucking and licking with the same enthusiasm. Then he motorboats his face between Tyler's pec tits, shaking his head back and forth, and Tyler laughs—a deep, rumbling sound.
"You're so good at this, bro," Tyler says, his hand running through Jett's hair.
Jett grins and playfully bites down on Tyler's nipple, tugging it gently with his teeth.
Tyler bucks, his hips jerking up, and he moans—loud and desperate.
"Oh fuck, oh fuck," Tyler groans. "That's so intense."
Jett giggles and keeps kissing down Tyler's body—over his abs, down to his hips, until he's kneeling on the bed between Tyler's huge quads.
Tyler's cock is standing straight up, thick and veiny, the head leaking pre-cum. Jett looks up at Tyler with those big blue puppy-dog eyes and kisses the tip.
"What does it take to be an HMB Services guy?" Jett asks, his voice soft and curious.
Tyler runs his hand through Jett's hair again, his expression serious.
"Well," Tyler says, "there are, like, a few pillars. First, you gotta be really enthusiastic. Like, you gotta love helping people and making them feel good."
As he talks, he starts pushing his cock into Jett's mouth.
Jett opens wide, his plump lips stretching around the thick shaft, and he starts sucking.
"Second," Tyler continues, his voice getting breathier, "you gotta be, like, really good at the techniques. Zayn teaches us all these special methods for massages and stretches and stuff. You gotta practice a lot."
Jett moans around Tyler's cock, his head bobbing up and down. He takes it deeper, gagging slightly, and Tyler groans.
"Third," Tyler says, his hand gripping Jett's hair, "you gotta be a team player. Like, you gotta bond with the other guys and help each other out. That's super important."
Jett pulls off, gasping for air, and then goes back down, taking Tyler even deeper this time. His throat works around the thick head, and Tyler's hips jerk up involuntarily.
"Fuck, Jett," Tyler moans. "You're doing so good."
Jett arches his back, his bubble butt sticking up in the air, and he starts twerking it playfully—bouncing and jiggling his cheeks as he deepthroats Tyler's cock.
I'm stroking my cock faster now, my eyes locked on the scene. Jett looks so fucking hot like this—his face flushed, his lips stretched around Tyler's cock, his ass bouncing.
And then I feel a hand on my shoulder.
I jump, my heart nearly stopping, and I turn around.
Ben, Zayn's hot twink assistant, is standing there, smirking.
He's wearing nothing but a pair of tight gray joggers that hang low on his hips, showing off his smooth, toned abs and the waistband of his underwear. His bubble butt is clearly visible through the fabric, two perfect globes straining against the material.
He puts a finger to his lips—be quiet—and then reaches around me, his hand wrapping around my throbbing cock.
I freeze, my breath catching.
Ben starts stroking me—slow and messy, his hand slick with my pre-cum. The sound is obscene, wet and squelching, but Jett and Tyler are too oblivious to notice.
Ben's other hand slides under my shirt, his fingers finding my pecs. He squeezes and gropes, pinching my nipples, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning.
He leans in close, his lips brushing against my ear.
"Enjoying the show?" he whispers.
I nod, unable to speak.
Ben grins and keeps stroking me, his hand moving faster now.
In the bedroom, Jett pulls off Tyler's cock and starts kissing lower.
He kisses Tyler's balls, sucking them gently into his mouth one at a time. Tyler groans, his legs spreading wider, and Jett moves even lower.
He starts licking Tyler's hole.
Tyler's head falls back, and he starts groping his own pecs, squeezing and pinching his nipples as Jett's tongue works over his tight jock hole.
"Oh fuck," Tyler moans. "Jett, that's so good."
Jett moans into Tyler's ass, his tongue pushing inside. "Zayn said I need to work on my tongue-work," Jett says between licks. "He said it's, like, super important for pleasuring big muscular men."
"You're doing so well, bro," Tyler groans. "So fucking well."
Jett slobbers all over Tyler's hole, his tongue lapping and licking, and Tyler's cock is leaking pre-cum all over his abs.
I'm barely holding it together. My cock is throbbing in Ben's hand, and I'm leaking pre-cum all over his fingers.
And then Ben drops to his knees behind me.
He pulls my jeans down, exposing my ass, and spreads my cheeks.
I feel his tongue press against my hole, and I have to bite down on my fist to keep from moaning out loud.
Ben starts eating me out—his tongue pushing inside, licking and lapping, and the sensation is overwhelming. I'm watching Jett eat Tyler out while Ben eats me out, and it's the hottest thing I've ever experienced.
Ben's tongue works deeper, and I grip the doorframe, my knees weak.
Jett and Tyler are so deep in their "training and bonding session" that they wouldn't notice even if I moaned out loud.
But I don't want to risk it.
Jett pulls back from Tyler's ass and climbs back onto his lap, facing him.
He lines up Tyler's huge cock with his hole and starts sinking down.
Slowly.
Inch by inch.
Tyler's cock disappears inside Jett's tight jockpussy, and Jett's face is pure bliss—his eyes closed, his mouth open, his head falling back.
"Oh my god," Jett moans. "You're so deep."
Tyler grips Jett's waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and starts guiding him up and down.
Jett starts riding Tyler—slow at first, then faster. His bubble butt bounces and jiggles with each movement, and the sound of skin slapping fills the room.
I'm stroking my cock faster now, my hand moving in time with Jett's bouncing. Ben is still eating me out, his tongue working deep inside, and I'm so close to cumming I can barely think.
Jett and Tyler start making out, their tongues tangling together, and Jett rides Tyler like a stripper—slamming his ass down hard, his cheeks clapping with each movement.
"I need to get better at rough bonding," Jett moans between kisses. "Zayn said that's, like, really important."
Tyler groans, his hands gripping Jett's ass. "You ready for the kind of rough bonding Zayn taught us?"
Jett nods hard, his eyes wide and eager. "Yes. Please. Show me."
Tyler grins—a feral, hungry grin—and then he slams Jett down onto the bed.
Jett lands on his stomach, his face pressed into the pillow, and Tyler mounts him from behind.
Tyler's body is glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing and rippling as he positions himself. He looks like an alpha dumb himbo god—powerful, dominant, beautiful.
He lines up his cock with Jett's hole and slams inside.
Jett screams into the pillow, his hands gripping the sheets, and Tyler starts pounding him.
Hard.
Fast.
Brutal.
"This is how HMB studs are made," Tyler grunts, his hips slamming into Jett's ass. "You gotta take it rough, bro. You gotta show you can handle it."
Jett moans and nods, his face still pressed into the pillow. "Yes, yes, more. Please, more."
Tyler's hands grip Jett's hips, pulling him back onto his cock with each thrust. Jett's bubble butt bounces and jiggles, the flesh rippling with the force of Tyler's pounding.
The sound is obscene—wet, loud squelching from Jett's tight hole, the slap of skin on skin, Jett's muffled moans.
Tyler looks like a fucking god. His abs are flexing with each thrust, his pecs bouncing, his arms bulging. Sweat drips down his chest and abs, and his face is twisted in concentration and pleasure.
And Jett—fuck, Jett looks so beautiful. His smooth back is arched, his ass up in the air, his face pressed into the pillow. His blond hair is messy and damp with sweat, and his body is trembling with each thrust.
Ben stands up behind me and moves in front of me, dropping to his knees.
He looks up at me with a smirk and then takes my cock into his mouth.
All the way down.
His throat opens up, and he swallows me to the base, his nose pressed against my pelvis. He holds me there, his throat working around my cock, and I have to grip the doorframe to keep from collapsing.
I'm watching Tyler brutally fuck Jett while Ben deepthroats me, and it's too much.
Tyler grips Jett's hair and yanks him up roughly, pulling his face out of the pillow.
Jett gasps, his back arching even more, and Tyler leans down and spits into his mouth.
Jett moans, swallowing it eagerly, and then Tyler kisses him—hard and deep and filthy.
Jett starts cumming.
Hands-free.
His cock erupts, shooting thick ropes of cum all over the bed, and he squeals—high-pitched and desperate.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Jett cries, his whole body convulsing.
Tyler slams Jett's face back into the pillow and starts pounding even harder.
The wet squelching gets louder, and I can see Jett's hole stretched tight around Tyler's cock, slick and glistening.
Tyler roars—a deep, animalistic sound—and slams in balls-deep.
He cums.
Hard.
His whole body tenses, his muscles flexing, and he fills Jett with cum.
I grip Ben's hair and hold him down, my cock buried in his throat, and I explode.
Wave after wave of cum shoots down Ben's throat, and he swallows it all, moaning around my cock.
I'm shaking, my legs weak, and I have to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling.
Ben pulls off slowly, licking his lips, and looks up at me with a satisfied grin.
In the bedroom, Tyler collapses onto Jett, both of them panting and sweaty.
They roll onto their sides, and Tyler pulls Jett into his arms, cuddling him close.
"That was awesome, bro," Tyler says, his voice soft and content. "You're gonna be such a great HMB stud."
Jett grins, his face flushed and happy. "Thanks, Tyler. I'm so excited to watch the game with all the HMB bros tonight."
They're cuddling now, talking like they didn't just have brutal, intense sex.
Like it was just another training session.
Ben stands up and pulls me away from the door, his hand wrapping around mine. He pulls me down the hallway, and I follow, my legs still shaky.
We stop in the living room, and Ben turns to face me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"That was fun," he says, grinning.
I pull him close and kiss him—deep and messy, tasting myself on his tongue.
When we break apart, I smack his ass, and he laughs.
"Come on," Ben says, tugging me toward the elevator. "Let's get out of here before they realize we were watching."
We step into the elevator, and the doors close behind us.
As we descend, I can't stop grinning.