Pageants are gay!

by Neltharion5

The USA Mister Pageant is far more than just a beauty show. Friends Darren and Scott are too oblivious to acknowledge that their state pageant titles may have made them the hottest men in their state. Will the national title do the same?

“USA Misters from states located west of the Mississippi register to the left.” The registry volunteer pursed her perfectly painted lips. “Mister Louisiana, please move to the right.”

Darren, the gorgeous twenty-something, moved to the right to find a few competitors had also arrived early. Although he was Mister Ohio, he thought himself one of the less good-looking of the Misters.

“Hey, dude. How’s it hangin’?” Darren turned to see Scott, a good friend and Mister Florida, as it said on his belt. “What’s high in the middle and round on the ends?”

“My ass?” he laughed.

“No, your mom’s tits.” Although Scott was thoroughly metrosexual, he wasn’t gay, or at least didn’t identify that way.

“Ya think I might win?”

“You know I don’t swing that way...”

“Well, I am Mister Ohio…”

“…But I know you’re stacked for the tidy-whitie contest.”

“Thanks…” Darren scratched the back of his neck. “Could it true what they say about winning these titles?”

“Oh, you mean that cray-cray urban legend?” Scott snorted. “How could it?”

“Yeah,” Darren said. “Still, I wish it was.”

“You would want to become the hottest guy living in the state you represent?” Scott grinned. “Whether you were before or not?”

“And the other thing they say…?”

“We all gain extreme same-sex attraction after gaining the state title?”

Darren laughed, “If only!”

Darren realized then Scott was standing very close. He could feel Scott’s sweet breath on my cheek, feel the warmth of his body against his chest. Darren was about to lean forward and bring our lips together.

But instead, Scott took a step back, saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He smiled. “I’m invading your personal space.”

Darren gave him a half-smile. “You can invade me anytime… stud.”

There was an announcement for the male pageanters to proceed into the dressing rooms. The costumes assigned to the Misters from each state were oversexualized, but most of the pageanters loved the opportunity to show off their flawless bodies.

Darren had the booth right next to Scott. When he saw his costume, he laughed like an idiot.

“Such a hottie…!” Darren heard Scott murmuring to himself.

“Are you practicing your dance?” Darren asked.

“You know it, dude!” he yelled back over the partition.

Squeezing into the compression pants for his costume was like a camel passing through the eye of a needle. Darren mumbled to himself, “And if the camel was hung twice as big as his fellow camels.”

“Awesome, dude!” Darren turned to see Scott peering into his dressing stall. “You look hot!”

“So do you.” Darren said, “I can’t believe you get your own surfboard.”

Darren saw Scott turn to eye up several of the other pageanters as they passed him, including a scantily attired policeman and a tightly dressed cowboy.

Scott turned back to look at Darren. “I would never have guessed that a spacesuit could ever be so sexy.”

“Ya think?”

“Yeah, a full-body skintight white compression suit with a helmet.” The shirtless hunk, Scott, seemed thoughtful.

“What?”

Scott scoped out Darren’s ass. “You really are quite an ass-tronaut.”

Another announcement, “Would the first ten pageanters take their positions in the rear and wings of the stage?”

“Wanky!” Scott giggled. “You ready to take your position in the rear?”

Darren winked at him.

As many of the spectators soon discovered, the costume contest wasn’t so much of a costume parade as a group striptease performed by ten of the contestants at a time. Darren owned the seductive elements of the performance better than Channing Tatum could ever dream.

The fifty men returned to the stage to be judged. The seven judges, five men, two women, were of varying ages and backgrounds. Darren and Scott were elated to make it through the costume portion, while twenty of the other contestants were less than thrilled.

Scott met him again in the dressing rooms. “You owned that body roll, dude.”

The best buns contest was nothing to be sneezed at. Spectators often considered it to be the most memorable events in the USA Mister Pageant. All twenty men stood on stage at the same time, buck naked and essentially mooned the judges and audience. Not all the men shaved their asses entirely. Many had slutty landing strips. Some even had tramp stamps. One man even had the letters FUCK ME shaved out of his ass hair. Some of the men flexed their butts. Some bent over. Others crouched down.

Darren and Scott were lucky to be some of the dismissed, meaning they had been some of the high scorers. Darren’s butt was a shelf-like bubble butt, huge and muscular. Scott’s ass was smaller but powerfully aesthetic; it was an apple tushy, set high and open. Of the ten men who continued, only one had a naturally hairy ass. The remaining men had been fully shaved or had done some serious manscaping.

Only the final ten could participate in the tidy-whitie competition that followed. The showers had a distinctive advantage in this event. Darren couldn’t stop glancing at Scott’s huge basket. In accord with tradition, the signaled the contestants to be hosed down each of the water, which Darren found to be thankfully warm. This left almost nothing up to the imagination.

Some of the men were hard or getting there. And thus, the growers had their revenge, among them Darren. Scott was a shower, but what a clean, smooth and handsome cock he had. Although not the largest or the widest, Darren had the longest cock in show, which gave him a permanent smirk. Afterwards, the men were cut down to the final five, the talent portion of the competition commenced.

The first finalist to display his talent was Mister Georgia, a big hearty black man with biceps bigger than Darren’s head. He did his best Barry White cover. His deep, smooth, sexy voice captivated the audience in an anticipatory, sex trance. Darren even noticed one of the judges groping himself in the crotch, which was not altogether frowned upon.

The second finalist to perform was Mister Texas, a Latino guy who, at least by Darren’s standards, was the most generously muscular man he had ever seen. His bit was bursting right out of the sleeves of his extra-tight tee. And then out of his super-tight short-shorts. And the last piece of clothing he burst out of was his skintight speedo to unveil his massive prick and muscle butt.

It was time for him to perform his talent. Nervous to be alone on stage, Darren furtively began undressing. He saw Scott in the wings, who gave him double thumbs up. Darren felt as surge of confidence. He got the beginning of a boner. He stripped slowly, massaging his ass cheeks, stroking his abs, and yet never touching his cock, which despite the lack of direct stimulation was fully erect and throbbing. Then he closed his eyes and engaged the nipples. The very moment he touched them, he began cumming so powerfully that the first blast of semen almost hit one of the judges in the face, but his tie wasn’t as fortunate.

Scott, Mister Florida, strode onto center stage and performed his dance… his pec dance. His hours and hours of practice had given him a greater range of control of his huge, sexy pert pectorals. His song selection was ‘Ice Ice Baby.’ Scott wasn’t the most muscular, or the best hung, or even the handsomest of the men who had been part of the contest, but there was something about Scott that was just unbelievably sexy, a total je ne sais quoi. Some spectators thought it was his confidence, others his carefree attitude, and still others believed it was his infectious sense of humor. But Darren was almost sure that it was none of those things. He would bet it was Scott’s heart. His compassion and capacity to love was what made him sexy.

Mister New York, the last finalist, was an olive-skinned Adonis. He walked onto stage with a six-pack of bottled beer and suddenly dropped his pants in one fell swoop. He picked up one of the beers. No one was quite sure of what to expect. He slowly inserted the top of the beer into his asshole, twisted the bottle, and opened the beer. He took a sip of the beer and then proceeded to do a hand stand and pour the rest of the beer into his sphincter.

Unfortunately, Mister New York and Mister Georgia were axed. When Mister New York was cut, Darren almost booed, while Scott did, as he felt similarly about Mister Georgia, because of his fervent love of Barry. Truth be told, Mister New York was in the bathroom for most of the rest of the night anyway, with vomit and diarrhea flowing freely, in between screams that it was supposed to be nonalcoholic beer. (Note: consuming alcohol through your butt usually has serious colo-rectal side effects and can easily lead to blackouts and alcohol poisoning, even when very small amounts are used.)

The final three were set to take their place on the stage. For the final event, the three finalists had to fuck. The last to orgasm was the winner of the entire competition.

Mister Texas, Darren, and Scott looked at each other. Mister Texas had the all-around biggest muscles while Darren had the biggest cock. And once again Scott had that heartful passion, that communicable exuberance which inspired Darren even when he was despairing.

Scott winked at him. And immediately Darren knew what to do.

Darren took position behind Mister Texas and began aggressively fingering his hole, and as he did, Darren’s cock started getting hard. He penetrated Mister Texas, forcing his entire dick into the well-muscled man. Meanwhile, Scott stroked Mister Texas’s extra-large cock to get it nice and hard. In one fell swoop, Scott went down on Mister Texas, trying and mostly succeeding in deepthroating his dick. In only a few moments, Mister Texas came down Scott’s throat, his spunk giving Scott a warm sensation.

After Scott and Darren removed themselves from intercourse with Mister Texas, he walked away from them with melancholy and as second runner-up. Before Scott could respond, Darren turned him around and slowly insert his cock into Scott’s ass. Darren slowly pumped Scott’s ass. He reached around to stroke Scott’s cock.

Darren knew Scott would be difficult to get off, primarily because of his orientation. Suddenly, Scott gripped Darren’s fist and helped guide it up and down along his cock. Like one life, they undulated together. Soon, Scott came but only seconds before Darren did.

The judges deliberated for a few moments. “Mister Ohio wins the USA Misters Pageant.” As he received his crown, belt, and scepter, Darren felt a rush, and he began to change.

Darren looked down at the skin of his waist stretched tanned and smooth, and he gasped as he saw the crease deepen to a more distinct valley between firm muscles. His muscles tightened about his chest and back, and he saw the muscles in my arms swell to superlative proportions. As the last few percentage points of his body fat dwindled, he grinned seeing his stomach fat evaporating above strengthening muscles. His arms kept growing, his shoulder muscles expanded to huge mountains. His biceps were now powerful and the rock-hard bulges. He glanced down again at his gleaming strong smooth chest muscle. His back flared out into a huge wedge of muscle, while his ever-deepening canyon of muscle cleavage broadened and gained size and definition. His long rock-hard legs gleamed with powerful bulges and curves of muscle. His USA Mister belt suddenly slumped, loose, about his shrinking waist, now hugging his hips instead.

Paradoxically, Darren’s cock felt like it was erecting, yet staying stubbornly soft. The soft bulge was already obscene and getting bigger. It grew, a vast mass of bulging flesh overflowing the complimentary USA Mister briefs and expanding out on all sides. It kept growing, larger and heavier, stretching the extra-large briefs until they were nothing more than an afterthought of puny white straps. It was the genitalia of a god, bigger than any he had ever seen before. The head alone overflowed the poor straining briefs, (which had been provided to him for modesty after winning.)

Now that the power of the pageant had changed him, Darren looked up and saw himself projected into one of the giant closed-circuit video screens and saw his face for the first time since transforming. His face had become wildly handsome. His jaw was square, prominent and forceful, and damn beautiful, a small cleft had appeared in the middle of my chin. His lips, broad and sensuously soft. Fifty times better looking, he was shockingly beautiful, a composite of all the handsomest male models in the country.

Darren’s shoulders stretched strong and would have no trouble holding up a small planet. Big, round, powerful muscles off which the rest of his huge powerful body hung. And that body showed off his assets to consummate beauty. Starting near the top, his chest was amazing. It would surely stretch the largest of tee-shirts to the breaking point, and was carpeted with a soft forest of dark curls, erupting like a shadow from the deep cleavage between his own hemispheres of power and spread like an inviting carpet that accentuated and did not mask the obvious strength and size of that chest. And his nipples could now tear a hole in aluminum. Large, tight and hard. Round caps begging to be played with in the center of silver dollar-size areola. His dark fur trailed down onto a belly rippling with a cobblestone street of brawn. Like a river, it wound through the depth of those muscles to heighten and illustrate their contained capacities. His narrow waist and hips widening to that chest and those shoulders helped create an even amazing tapered V of such dramatic flair that it looked like he might topple over. But that was before he saw his own legs. And that soft fur appeared again, there. And beneath that are strips and wedges of incredible definition and evident capability. Broad, thick, muscular thighs and diamond calves.

Darren’s cock and balls make you question how he will ever manage to wear pants again. He reached down and crudely cupped his bulge. The pageant gifted him with a tool of such thick, firm, lengthy glory that seeing it put horses to shame. It was in such perfect proportion to the rest of him, yet so enormous and lush and beautiful that all he wanted to do was swallow it whole and deep throated his own mammoth cock. His head was cowled in a tight, uncut foreskin. Yet his prick was so big, even his naturalness failed to fully contain him and the broad tip of his helmet hangs there, pink and luscious. Darren’s balls hung low and full, like fruit ripe for plucking. Separate round beauties, they looked plump and firm and ready to produce gallons of his powerful seed. Darren’s erect prick, hard as steel and hot as molten lead would surely shove his load of white lava so fully that you can hear him cumming in the next room.

He glanced over at Scott. He had a modest but wholly contented smile on his face. He was about to approach him and thank him. But Darren was immediately mobbed by reporters.

“As the newly minted USA Mister, do you have any plans for philanthropy in your home state of Ohio?” The female reporter put the microphone to his mouth. “It seemed like you could have been dismissed because of what seemed like hesitation.”

Darren responded. “Well, my friend and runner-up, Scott, helped me out towards the end and the middle of this competition.”

The reporter nodded as several other channels’ correspondents mobbed Scott where he stood on the wings of the stage.

Darren replayed in his mind what he had just said about Scott. “I get it…!” Suddenly, Darren began laughing hysterically. “Round on the ends and high in the middle… Ohio!”

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