Alpha Albert, Part 1

May

Hi. My name’s Albert. I’m about to start a new chapter of my life – I’m buying a house with my boyfriend, and we’re moving in together. Actually, that’s not 100% correct – I’m buying the house, and he’s moving in with me. Oliver’s still starting out in his career as an artist, whereas I’m a few years older and have some money saved up. I mean, I’m not old old – I’m 29 and he’s 24 – but it felt like it was the right time to make the investment, both in the home and in Oliver. So we are settling down in the suburbs, and really it’s for the best – I just couldn’t keep up with all those raves at the clubs and staying up until dawn. It isn’t that easy to do once you’re pushing 30.

Our new place is 1,200 square feet on a corner lot in a quiet neighborhood that is overseen by an HOA, and – yes, we already checked – our Pride flags are 100% allowed. We’re going to plant a vegetable garden in the backyard if we have time before it gets too late in the summer, and we are looking forward to getting to know all our new neighbors. Oliver is a little concerned that he will miss some of the excitement and energy of living in the city, but I told him he’d really just be missing out on our tiny apartments with the huge rents, the noise, and the rats. I also promised him we’d find some great restaurants that would soon replace our old favorites, and we’d find a gym so he could keep up on his workouts. I’ve never been much of a fitness enthusiast – I’m tall, lanky, and don’t really gain weight – but Oliver enjoys his gym time.

June

We’ve pretty much settled into the new place. It took longer than expected to unpack, but we finally got everything put away. We didn’t have time to plant the garden unfortunately, but we did find some new restaurants to try out (the sushi one is my favorite) and we ended up buying some dumbbells and a small weight bench for Oliver to use for his workouts. We did find a gym nearby, but he said he didn’t like the vibe there (code for not enough other gays, I think), so he’s doing them at home.

I think that’s been the biggest challenge for Oliver so far – I’m going into my office each day for my architecture position and have a chance to chitchat with my new co-workers, but he’s at the house most of the time either setting things up or working on his art in the basement. I’ve suggested he could offer some classes this summer, but he’s rebuffed that idea. Hopefully, he can start meeting some other people out here soon and making some new friends.

July

We got a new neighbor this month – Brock. And he’s…well, he’s a lot. He’s 6’4”, same as me, but he must weigh at least twice as much. Big hair, big smile, big muscles, and a big you-know-what…so big you can see the outline of it in his pants all the way across the yard, even when you’re not looking. I’m not sure if he was born or created in a lab to make gay men salivate.

Anyway, Brock moved into the house just to the east of us, and like Oliver, he’s at home all day. He told us he made his living on Only Fans, which I thought was a joke, but maybe he wasn’t kidding? I mean, he’s definitely got the body for it, and he seems to be quite the exhibitionist, so I guess it’s possible.

To attract even more attention, Brock set up his workout equipment right in his front yard. Not in the basement or the garage like a normal person, but smack dab in the center of his lawn. He works out ever single weeknight from 4:00pm to 7:00pm, just as the afternoon sun hits that part of his yard, so he can be seen by all the folks coming home from work. He wears only a tiny pair of shorts, sweats profusely, pumps insane amounts of weight, and flexes whenever anyone drives by – I swear all the rubbernecking is probably going to cause an accident soon. This is the kind of thing the HOA would normally never allow, but none of the board members have apparently been willing to confront him.

I don’t really like Brock, but it doesn’t have to do with any of the stuff I already listed. It’s just that he’s a jerk. He ridicules me for being so skinny and calls me Noodle, and then insinuates that I’m not a real man because I don’t lift weights. I try to laugh it off because he and Oliver have become fast friends, and I don’t want to get in the way of Oliver finally making a connection out here.

August

Well, it didn’t take long for Oliver to become obsessed with Brock. All I hear now when I come home from work is about Brock showing him how to lift more, and Brock helping him get stronger, and Brock getting him a bunch of new supplements. I mean, I’m really happy that my sweetie has made a friend, and that he now really likes living out here in the suburbs, but I wish it had been anyone but Brock. The big man is nice to me in front of Oliver, but he now calls me LimpDick whenever we’re along together, which fortunately isn’t that often. Usually it’s just when he sees me going to work in the morning, and he yells the insult super loud the entire neighborhood can hear.

The other noise that Brock apparently wants everyone to know about is when he's having sex, which seems to be just about every night. He leaves his window open so all are forced to listen to the grunting, moaning, expletives, and all the other sounds you would associate with fornication. Most of the time it’s with ladies, but we were surprised to hear some other guys in the mix as well. I laughed about it the first time, but now it’s just really aggravating – Brock’s clearly doing it on purpose to piss off his neighbors and exhibit his dominance, but FUCK, it’s really annoying me.

September

I guess I should have seen this coming, but honestly it was a total surprise: after knowing the guy less than 6 weeks, Oliver left me and moved in with Brock. He said he needed a real man – a real big man – to truly satisfy his needs and that I just wasn’t doing it for him anymore. Apparently, some of the times I heard Brock fucking in the last few weeks actually was with Oliver, who I thought was in the basement working on his art.

Oliver texted me what was happening when I was at the office, and by the time I got home, all of his stuff was gone. I assume he must have had Brock come over and help him, because there was a big piss stain on our bedspread which I’m sure the giant asshole created when Oliver wasn’t looking. My boyfriend may have been a cad for leaving, but he was not the hurtful type – Brock, on the other hand, definitely was.

I was incredibly upset about a lot of things – wasting time with Oliver, spending all my savings on the house, and looking like a cuckold by not having an inkling of what was really going on. But I was saving the bulk of my rage for Brock – I don’t for one second think he actually cared for Oliver, but rather just wanted to show me up by stealing him away. He was simply using his big muscles and his big dick to dominate, and there’s nothing I can really do about it. FUCK!

October

I’m still pissed. Really pissed. The whole neighborhood knows what happened, but nobody is offering up any sympathy for me because they don’t want to get on Brock’s bad side. They act like it was fate that brought him and Oliver together, and that I was the horrible ex-boyfriend for trying to keep them apart. It’s just ridiculous. 

I’m trying to move on, but it’s really hard when they are both now in the front yard working out all afternoon. Even though the weather is getting colder with each passing day, Brock and Oliver spend hours pumping iron and checking out each other’s muscles. Oliver’s put on a few pounds of beef, but Brock is the one who’s really growing massive. I guessed he weighed at least 320 when I first saw him this summer, but he’s got to be closer to 340 now – like I said, truly massive. His arms must be somewhere around 25 inches, and his chest must be close to 65 or 68.

I’m able to get through most days at work OK, since nobody there knows about what happened and I'm distracted by my responsibilities, but the nights are hard. My bed feels really empty, and of course, I can always hear the sounds of Brock and Oliver fucking half the night. A lot of times I just put on my headphones, listen to some music, and look up at the night sky through the window. It’s calming to watch the moon and the stars and not think about the bastard living 100 feet away from me.

But tonight, something odd happened. I was listening to the song “I Wish” by Stevie Wonder and looking up into the black sky when I saw a shooting star streak across. I laughed at the coincidence and thought about what I would wish for – what did I truly want. As the star was about to disappear from my view, I said out loud, “I wish Brock wouldn’t get any benefits from exercise. I wish he would try and try and try, but never get any stronger. I wish all his efforts would benefit someone like me, who could really use the muscle, and he’d just get weaker…and whinier…and pathetic.”

It was quite a lengthy wish, and clunkily worded, but it made me laugh for the second time in less than a minute. I felt the tiniest bit better and decided to go to sleep. After I put my headphones away, however, I got the strangest feeling in my arms…they felt tingly, and odd, and maybe like they were vibrating a bit. I got this image in my head of someone doing pushup after pushup…really pumping out the reps and pushing themselves to their limit. It made me really horny – more than I had ever been with Oliver – and I realized I desperately need to jack off. I put my hand down my pajama bottoms and felt my cock, which was already completely hard.

“What is going on?” I asked myself. But before I could think about anything else, the picture in my mind came back. I could see it more clearly now – it was Brock. He was doing pushups before going to bed. Rep and rep, pumping his big arms up and down over and over and over. But I could feel the results of those pushups in my own arms and my chest. They were filling with blood…getting bigger…getting harder. I was getting stronger. I was gaining muscle. I was becoming buffer with each passing rep, and he was…getting nothing. My cock suddenly erupted in my hand, spewing cum all over the inside of my pajamas, and then soon after I passed out from the excitement.