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Disclaimer - Just bros being bros. Or bros being wolves. Whatever man. Don't read this unless you wanna get swole. (This is a work of pornographic fiction. Do not read if it would be illegal for you to do so.)

The Wolf Bro Gym

Your joints still creak from the drive, popping as you stretch your back. Although you came here to relax, a quick trip to the hotel gym does sound pretty tempting . . .

You could get your blood pumping, work out all your kinks, and get to the convention proper with a running start. You might as well check it out to see if you want to give it a shot.

Most hotel gyms aren't very impressive, so you aren't expecting much as you open the door leading into the exercise room.

And while you have to admit there isn't much in the way of equipment, there is quite a lot in the way of three jacked wolves wearing tank tops, jockstraps and snapback caps, all exercising like it was going out of style. They complement each other relentlessly, only stopping as you walk through the heavy door leading into the room.

It smells of male exertion, a cloying musk that complements their muscles, so defined you can seem them through their grey, white, and black fur respectively.

"Hey, broski." The white wolf swaggers over as the door swings shut behind you. "Looking to get some reps in?"

You shrug and nod, wondering if it would be better to come back later.

Usually, the rule in gyms is to never make eye contact and never try to start a conversation, but this guy seems nice enough.

"Hell yeah." The grey wolf walks up and slaps you on the back with enough force to make you stumble forwards, faceplanting into the wall of fluffy muscle that is the white wolf.

You pull back and start to apologize, and yet your nose drinks in his scent, a heady blend of man and wolf, masculine, virile, and totally radical . . .?

The alluring odor makes you light headed and you stumble back, tripping and dropping to a crouch with a hand out to steady yourself.

"Good choice, man. Squats are always primo for workin' the ol' glutes." The white wolf grins down at you before squatting easily down to your level, foot paws spread against the floor, thighs bulging, making it impossible to look away from the red and black bulge of his jockstrap.

He rises in one fluid rush, and you try to follow, but your shoes catch against the rubberized floor, and your pants are tucked in too tightly, causing you to totter to the side.

Massive black paws reach in and steady you from behind. "Careful, brokowski. You don't wanna do any bad reps." His padded fingers press against your sides as you force yourself back up to standing, beads of sweat already forming on your brow.

"Hey man," the grey wolf interjects. "Those pants aren't doing you any good. You need to breathe, bro. Let your body speak." He walks over to a gym bag left haphazardly in the corner of the room and fishes something out.

"Here," he casually flings something green and black towards you.

You don't even have time to raise your hands before the jockstrap smacks you in the face.

You breathe in again, a faint whine emanating from your throat. It smells like them. It smells powerful. It smells gnarly . . . swole even.

"Yeah, man. This'll up your game . . . Here." The black wolf wraps his burly arms around you and unbuckles your belt, tugging down your slacks and underwear.

You look down and the white wolf is already unlacing your shoes, casually prying them off and then rolling your socks all the way down and off your feet. Before you even really understand what's going on, he takes the jockstrap from you, slides your feet through the wide elastic bands, and pulls it all the way up to your waist, the loose thin elastic fabric cupping your balls and leaving your backside bare.

"Nice."

"Looks good on you, bro."

The black wolf smacks your rump. "That's what I like to see." He presses his body in from behind you, his bulge pressed against your bare buttocks. "Now, are you ready to make some gains at the temple of swole, Brosideon?" He rests his paws on your hips.

You gulp and nod tentatively.

"That's the fuckin' spirit. Alright, let's go. Fifty solid squats. We're here for ya, bro." The white wolf squats down in front of you with immaculate posture. You can see the muscles in his thighs tense on either side of his taut bulge.

You try to follow his movements, bending down, feeling the silky-smooth fur of the black wolf behind you as he follows your motions, paws steadying you, helping your form as you slowly bend your legs down and then press yourself back up.

You immediately realize two things.

First, that there's no way you're going to do fifty squats in a row, your muscles already shaking on the way back up.

Second, that every time you complete one, you get to lean back and feel the dark furred wolf's bulge press against you from behind.

"You got this, dude. Just forty-nine more." The grey wolf joins the white one, their squats perfectly synchronized as they continue their regimen of moral support.

You huff out as you follow them, muscles seizing after only five reps.

But, you feel like you can do at least one more, especially if you get to keep looking at their toned wolfish bodies in front of you.

While you're distracted, you realize you're already up to eight.

Your mouth hangs open as you pant, the air filled with their musky scents, filling your thoughts with their strong, scantily clad, absolutely sculpted bodies.

"There you go, dude. Feel that burn." The dark wolf praises you as you persevere. His paws run down your thighs, claws tracing over your straining muscles. Your skin twitches as you feel heat slowly blooming out in a wave behind him.

But you can't take your eyes off of the built wolves in front of you, tongue licking over your lips as you copy their form and drink in their praise. Your heart hammers in your ears as you feel the jockstrap becoming even tighter against your crotch.

You're not even sure what number you're on as the black wolf's paws slides down your legs, leathery fingers squeezing down your calves. The burn is so good though, muscles screaming under his touch, begging to be used, to get truly shredded.

Your toes curl, straining. You can feel them gripping at the mat as you continue, stance spreading wider, making it more comfortable to dip down then up, over and over. Your eyes remain fixed on the jacked wolves in front of you as they shower you with constant encouragement.

"Just one more, dude," the dark wolf's words snap you back from your thoughts.

Does he really mean it?

That couldn't have been fifty . . .

You press up one last time and the three wolves all howl out in jubilation, rushing forward and engulfing you in a three-way fluffy hug, powerful arms and chests wrapped all around you.

"Good pace, broheim." The grey wolf grabs your ass from behind as they step back.

You look down . . . and he's absolutely right.

Your legs look amazing. Shaggy brown fur covers you from the waist down, accentuating the corded muscles of your legs. Your wide padded paws tense as you turn to look over your shoulder at your now furry rump.

Exercise really does wonders for the body. It's a wonder why you don't do it more often, or, you know, like, all the time, man.

"Alright. Stoked for the next set, dude?" The grey wolf grins at you, tongue lolling, tail wagging. His enthusiasm is contagious.

You nod.

"Hell yeah." He guides you to the blue padded mats lining one side of the small gym, sitting down and patting the blank spot next to him as you join him. "A hundred sit ups should be good for ya. Really tone that belly."

The white wolf kneels down before you resting his hands on your foot paws and holding them firmly against the floor.

"Alright, here we go." The grey wolf curls up his body with graceful ease, chiseled abdominals bulging.

You try to emulate him as best you can, but end up grunting and straining and wobbling up to an uneasy sitting position.

Your white wolf spotter grins at you with pure enthusiasm. "Good start, bro. Don't worry, you got this. How about a little motivation?" He then presses his muzzle forwards, pink tongue flicking out and dragging across your lips.

Your eyes fly wide in surprise, but then he pushes you back and you fall down onto the mat with a small thump.

Did he really mean to . . .?

You curl yourself back up just to be sure, gritting your teeth, muscles already burning, eyes screwing shut as you struggle.

The white wolf licks up your chin, tongue darting just inside your lips before he presses you back again.

"Now you're getting it!" The black furred wolf chimes in, joining you on the other side, paws folded behind his head.

Your belly burns, muscles straining, sweat pouring off of your brow, but as you look up, you see the white wolf beaming down at you, and you know you can go for at least one more, pulling yourself up eagerly.

"Now hold it a second." The grey wolf presses in against your lower back.

The white wolf smiles, cold nose snuffling against your face before his tongue slides past your lips, twisting against your own. You lap back at him, your own tongue feeling flatter and more flexible as you lose yourself in the kiss.

And then you're falling back against the padded blue mat again.

"That's the stuff, bro." the grey wolf calls out encouragingly. "Just gotta stay steady there, really enjoy it, ya know?"

You do know.

You want nothing more than to make out with the white wolf just once more. And, despite your muscles' protests, you do so again and again. Each kiss is unique, his tongue sliding over your lips as they thin and darken, flicking between your gums and sharpening fangs, and sliding up over the roof of your mouth. Your head gets closer and closer to his every time as well, bones creaking as your muscles strain, face pressing out into a blunt muzzle, nose darkening.

You can smell them around you, male lupine musk making you drunk with exertion. Your shirt feels tighter and tighter with each repeated sit up, buttons straining before flying off. The seams split, your fluffy brown chest bursting through the thin cotton, swelling abs visible through your thick chestnut fur. Every time you pull yourself back up, your body swells larger, your muscles growing under your thick pelt.

You spend less and less time lying back, and more and more making out with the white wolf. Your torso bulges, pain and pleasure radiating into a single motivating mélange before you hear cheering and the white wolf pulls your face forwards, not letting you fall back as your tongues entwine, labored breaths puffing against each other while you lose yourself in the kiss.

"Tight, bro."

"Absolutely shredded." The grey wolf leans down, running his claws over your freshly defined abs and the tatters of your exploded shirt.

You look down at yourself, seeing your chiseled chest rise and fall as you breathe, tongue lolling out the side of your muzzle. You look hot. You look jacked. The fabric of your jockstrap stretches taut as you ogle yourself.

"Alright, man. You ready for the main attraction?"

"Gotta get you to the gun show, bro!" The grey wolf guides you over to the one bench in the room, a bare metal bar suspended above it.

The wolves all goad you on, laying you back on the fake leather and sliding you up under the bar.

You think you can lift the bar at least.

It's been awhile . . .

But then, they add weights. You can't see the numbers, but you can feel the vibrations as they clang onto either end of the bar before they lock the collars on.

You swallow heavily.

"Alright bro, pump these a few times and then we'll move up to the good stuff!"

The charcoal black wolf walks behind your head, ready to spot you. You raise your hands up, feeling the roughness of the etched metal bar against your palms.

If they believe you can do it, you obviously can.

No problem . . . bro.

You press up experimentally.

Nothing happens.

It's like the bar is glued to the frame.

You start to sweat, breaths coming in quicker as your eyes dart from side to side.

"Bro, you're overthinking it," The dark wolf's comforting and enthusiastic words ring out from behind you. "Are these distracting you?" He curls a thumb under the thick elastic waistband of his jockstrap. "No prob, man, just let me take them off . . ."

Your eyes remain fixed, staring up as he peels off his jockstrap, his heavy, plump, furry balls spilling out. He reaches down and grabs his fuzzy animal sheath, thumb playing over the pink, pointed tip just peaking up from it.

Your tongue licks up over your dark nose instinctively. You can smell him.

He smells fuckin' great, man.

"Alright, Bromeo, don't worry. I've got you. Here we go."

You don't even understand his words for a second, too mesmerized by his juicy package. But then he's lifting the bar, your hands still wrapped around it, and pushing it a few inches out so that it rests directly above your chest.

"Nice . . . and . . . slow." He lets go, hands ready to swoop in if need be.

The weight is immense, and you can do nothing but press up with all your might, arms quaking. The bar lowers slowly regardless of your effort, like you're losing an arm-wrestling match against a hydraulic press.

But as the wolf lowers himself following the bar, his balls get closer and closer to you. As you sputter and strain, the hefty orbs fall down against your face, smothering you with their fluffy, musky weight.

Your ragged breaths draw in full lungfuls of that addictive, raw lupine masculinity.

You groan out, and the bar's decent slows just as it hits your chest. And then, like a magic trick, it starts to rise again, your muscles straining as you grit your fangs and shove. Inch by inch you manage to press it back above you, just as you notice inch by inch, the wolf's member begins to press out of his dark furry sheath.

Your own jockstrap feels tighter too, blunt bulge turning into a chiseled tip pressing out against the elastic fabric.

The wolves all cheer as you lower the bar again, eager to get another facefull of that delicious wolfish reek, letting it invigorate you as you raise the bar again.

Your muscles scream at you to stop, but you can barely hear them over the shouts of encouragement from the wolves and the scent of the dark wolf's hefty nuts patting down against your face again and again.

And then, there's a slight jerk back at the bar followed by a clanging metallic thud.

The wolves all cheer, reaching down to tussle your fur, the bar returned home after its ponderous journey.

"Nice."

"Good start, Broseph."

"Hell, yeah. Let's move on to the middle course."

They take two more weights and wrench them on both ends of the bar, rocking the bench. You're distracted though as you hold your hands in front of your face, looking at your dark nails and the patchy brown fur growing out from your defined forearms with confusion.

The wolves all look down at you expectantly. You shake your head, breathing out, ears folding back as you grab the bar and press up once again.

It has the same effect of pressing up against a brick wall, your arms straining as the bar doesn't budge and inch.

"You have to ground yourself, bro." The gray wolf steps over the bench, and then lowers himself, straddling your hips. His weight makes your back pop, but also your cock throb as he rubs his rump back against you. Your shifting shaft grinds against the smooth fabric of your jockstrap, pulsing against his fluffy rump as his tail pats between your bent knees.

"I believe you can do it, so just trust me, bro," he beams down at you.

The dark furred wolf helps you lift the bar out over your chest, your hands sweaty as you press up against it as hard as you can.

When he lets go, it's like someone dropped a mountain on you.

Oddly though, you're at least able to slow the mountain's descent.

Your shoulders creak as you prevent the bar from immediately crashing into your ribs like a meteor. But you still can't make it rise back up no matter how hard you push.

As the bar lowers towards your inevitable doom, the grey wolf grinds back against you, your cock straining, a dark, glistening patch forming on your jockstrap as the black wolf's balls pat down against your face. The sent of virile male wolf overwhelms you as your balls swell and your shaft pulses, pressing up against the grey wolf's bared ass.

A guttural rumble builds up in your chest, your pecs bulging, fur fluffing out as you give it your all and you slowly press the bar back up with a shuddering gasp.

The wolves all bark out encouragement. The grey wolf grinds back against you, his tail wagging with impossibly genuine enthusiasm as you press the bar up again while also butting up against him again as well. You can't help yourself, ramming up again and again. You snuffle in at the dark wolf's balls, tongue flicking out automatically at them, lifting the heavy orbs and letting them pat down as your wet, leathery nose huffs in the wolf's own olfactory encouragement.

Your arms swell every time you push up the bar, bulging and fluffing out with caramel and chocolate colored fur. Your nails curl out into dark claws as your palms and fingertips grow suede pads that grip at the etched metal bar. The tendons in your thickening neck stand out as you strain, lost in a constant battle of exertion before the black wolf pulls the bar back and it slams home into its rests, potential energy making the bench creak.

"You fucking nailed it, bro." The grey wolf sits back against your straining erection through the thin black fabric of your athletic undergarment.

Your pulse rings in your ears, muscles on your increasingly defined chest heaving as you pant.

The other two wolves take off the clamps and slap two more plates on the bar which now bows slightly under their combined weight.

You look down at your body, eyes tracing up your sculpted curves and shaggy coat.

Maybe it is possible . . . dude.

You certainly don't want to disappoint your bros.

"Just relax, man. You got this, easy." The white wolf tussles the fur on your defined belly. "We'll help you out, just focus on us, bro." He leans down between your knees at the far end of the bench.

"Come on guys, let's be there for the new guy. No homo." He licks his chops, snuffling up against the tight bulge of your balls, tongue lapping out at the thin fabric. His hungry lapping slides down, grinding over your fuzzy taint before swirling around your bared, asshole. You clench and writhe as his wet hot tongue slides against you.

"Yeah, we're just helping you out, bro. No homo." The grey wolf reaches underneath himself, fingers wrapping around your trapped erection. He pries back the stretchy fabric of your jock, letting your half-extended lupine erection spring free. He slides his fingers down from the tip of your shaft, coating it in your own glistening pre before smearing what remains under his own tail while he wags happily. You grunt, breath halting as he guides your member up against his clenched hole, tongue lolling out as he lowers his weight. You slide up inside of him in a warm rush of ecstasy, spreading his tight ass as it clenches around your throbbing lupine cock.

"Yeah, dude. We're just here to support you, you know?" The black wolf leans down and rubs his swelling erection against your fluffy cheek, leaving a glistening trail of pre. Your nose huffs in his scent, tongue licking up over your own cold nose. He wraps his fingers under your chin, pulling your head back towards him, your furry ears splayed out against the bench.

"You can do this." He pulls his hips back, tail wagging as you lap eagerly up the side of his pink, throbbing erection. The taste of his salty pre lights up your senses as he moves the pointed tip of his shaft so that it just lightly brushes against your thin dark lips.

"No homo," he adds before rocking forwards, cock sliding between your fangs. The slick length jerks in your jaws as you run your tongue over it, leaking out salty slickness as he slides forward into your hungry muzzle.

You're so distracted by the tongue slathering your ass with affection, the wolf riding your cock, and the pulsing dick in your mouth that you almost lose track of when the black furred wolf helps you lift the sagging bar from its rest.

It's heavy . . . like probably heavier than you are, and you're jacked as hell.

The wolves all pause, waiting for a moment as you huff and lap around the cock in your gullet before you lower the bar, the immense weight descending like a press designed to crush you into scrap. Its movement is like a glacier, slow and unceasing, sliding down towards your chest.

You ain't even worried though.

The corners of your mouth turn up in a smile around the cock in your maw. Your ass clenches in at the white wolfs tongue, your spine creaking, a fluffy nub poking out and beginning to wag manically as you raise the bar like you were unsinking the Titanic.

The wolves cheer and bark out their encouragement. The grey wolf clenches around your cock as you slide out inch after inch into his gripping, needy insides. Your sheath bulges as you grind up with your hips, lifting his entire body as you buck against him.

The dark wolf's shaft swells and pulses forward into your muzzle as you wrap your tongue around it, flickering over the pointed tip and lapping up the clear dollops of salty pre.

You raise the bar fully and then begin lowering it again, muscles working on autopilot, your arms bulging, swelling out into proportions that would make a bodybuilder blush.

Your asshole clenches against the white wolf's insistent tongue, new muscles tugging every time your lengthening tail wags.

Your balls tense, swelling and filling out the pouch of your jockstrap as the grey wolf continues to ride you. You growl as the loose fluffy skin of your sheath swells, need rising up inside of you, your stomach twisting before you buck up and your lupine knot pops out from your sheath. You ram upwards with your hips, bulbous knot of flesh mashing against the wolf's stretched ass. He grinds down against it, moaning, tail flickering as he looks up at the ceiling like he's trying to find god.

You're not even sure how many reps you've done, but your muscles are starting to burn, massive arms aching. You don't care though, your mind fixating on the wolves just helping you out.

No homo.

The black furred wolf's knot pops out from his sheath and butts against your huffing nose while he grinds in against you before sliding back and ramming in again. Your long, canine muzzle is perfect for taking his shaft. You suckle around it, pink tongue lapping and flickering up at the edges of his tender, throbbing knot.

Your ass clenches down every time you ram your impossibly sensitive knot upwards, but the white wolf's lupine attention is tenacious, swirling around the edges and then pressing in slightly. He teases you, pulling back just as your ass starts to flutter before pressing in again and again.

Even with the raucous support from your bros, your arms start to tire, and after you push the bar up a few more times, your fingers feel numb, your biceps burn, and your reps get slower and slower until you're left with the bar and inch above your chest, and no matter how hard you push, it doesn't budge.

"Just one more, man. You ready?" The grey wolf calls down to you, grinding back against your hefty cock in a purely motivational way.

"Yeah bro, you ready to go all the way?" The dark wolf queries, grinding his knot against your muzzle.

The white wolf doesn't say anything, but his tongue slowly presses in against your tender ring of muscle, waiting for an answer.

Your response builds up in your chest as a determined growl, vibrations buzzing around the black wolf's shaft. You redouble your effort, straining with every ounce of your being, but still can't make an inch of headway.

But then, the white wolf raises his paws, spreading your ass wide and surging forwards with his tongue. Your eyes widen as you feel the slippery muscle twist into your insides, your ass clenching down against him in waves.

The bar raises up, just barely, your muscles tensing as your spine stiffens and your tail bats against him.

You rock your hips up as the grey wolf grinds down against you. You strain together, his ass stretched and quivering before a strange, weightless moment of equilibrium. Then, with a fleshy thud, you slam fully into him, his ass gripping tight around your knot, locking your cock inside of him as you quake and jerk, pleasure radiating out from between your legs. Your balls tighten, tail standing out straight as the raw need builds up and then surges out of you in molten waves. You pump thick gushes of wolf seed into his needy insides, your ass clenching around the tongue flickering inside of you with every heated surge.

The bar levitates away from your chest as if by magic, raising in uneven inches.

You open your mouth, moaning out for only a moment before the black wolf rams his knot forward between your fangs. Your ululations are muffled as his paws grip in at your shoulders. His cock swabs the back of your throat, and then he erupts inside of you, spilling out bursts of salty lupine essence that you drink down like it was ambrosia. Every gush gives you the energy to lift the bar just slightly higher again and again until you have it high enough to slam it back home.

Just as you do, the grey wolf reaches down and squeezes at his own knot, ears folding back as his balls tense. He howls out in celebration of your success, cock showering you with hot, thick strings of seed like lewd confetti. His ass wrenches down in frantic clenching spasms as he cums, squeezing in at your knot, milking you for every last drop as your ram your hips up against him like a jackhammer.

The white wolf cradles your balls, feeling them contract every time your spurt into the grey wolf. His tongue curls up, grinding against your prostate, stretching out your orgasm as he moans against your ass, pumping at his own shaft before he joins you in release, cock spurting up against his fluffy white fur.

You lose yourself in the sensations, cock jerking and pulsing out more and more, ass wrenching around that insistent, flickering tongue, and muzzle drinking down every last dribble of seed from the black wolf's straining shaft.

As your climaxes fade, the only sound in the room is your collective animal panting.

"Good fucking session, bro." The grey wolf huffs. "Some good stretching in there too." He grits his teeth and pulls himself up.

You groan, straining as he pulls back, his ass physically not willing to let you go, gripping desperately at you before your knot slides free with a wet pop. His hole quivers, leaking out a dribble of your pearlescent cum before finally clenching shut.

"Hell yeah, man. You're a natural at this motivation thing." The black wolf reaches down and places a paw on your throat, pulling back gingerly as you stretch your lupine jaws open wide, licking your lips as he slides out of you.

The white wolf stands up, licking his chops. "For sure. You nailed it, bro." He grabs handfuls of complementary gym towels and tosses them to the rest of you as you begin to wipe off the signs of your shared exertion.

You're about to ask the crew what you're all going to do next when the door swings open and a flabbergasted man walks in wearing grey gym shorts and a frayed green tee shirt.

His water bottle clatters to the ground as he sees you all.

You grin at the other wolves as you all close in around the man.

He looks like he could use a few sets, and you're more than willing to help out a fellow gym bro.

No homo.