As with many of my stories this is based on a real life encounter, though I've embellished some details for the sake of narrative. All participants are 18 or older.
***
I'd say the last thing I expected from Russ was what happened in the stairwell that night, but that would mean the rest of the night was any less surprising.
Russ was one of my coworkers at the turnpike rest stop restaurant. Most of my coworkers were high school seniors like me. Russ was in his mid 20s and our lead fry cook. He was also supremely strange. But then again you'd have to be if your only apparent aspiration in life was to master sunny side up eggs in a go-nowhere town most people just stop in to refill gas and grab coffee on the way to a more interesting place.
I just didn't get Russ. He wasn't overtly dickish, but I didn't get his sense of humor, he didn't strike me as particularly bright, and he had a wicked temper. Probably had to do with his height; he was 5'4 tops (at 18 I had 6 inches on him). Buzzed dark hair, coal black eyes. Not someone you'd look at twice; he just breathed "working class dirtbag" in every way.
We were working the late shift on a weekday. We were alone in the restaurant, which wasn't unusual because traffic was always non-existent this time of night. I was already taking care of my overnight prep, mopping floors, running the dishwasher, stocking the freezer for the morning. Russ had wrapped up cleaning the kitchen - one thing I'd always give him, the guy was obsessive about keeping the kitchen spic and span.
"Yo, Jack."
I looked up. His voice was coming from the stairwell down to the basement. I hated that basement, it reminded me of a boiler room in a horror movie.
"What's up Russ?"
"Jack, c'mere. Check this out."
I propped the mop against the wall and walked over. Rounded the corner and there was Russ leaning back against the railing. The lighting was kinda dim (like I said, horror movie boiler room, or, more specifically, the insanely creepy metal stairwell leading to it).
When I finally got close enough to see what he was doing I froze. I am certain my mouth dropped open. Our work uniforms consisted of stained, baggy snap-button shirts and black pants; Russ usually wore combat boots while I opted for Doc Martens after learning the hard way that Chuck Taylors and recently mopped floors are a bad match.
Russ was standing there with his work shirt open. Scandalous right? Yeah, that's not why I was so startled. What shocked me was his chest. First, I had never seen a guy in real life who was ripped like that. Second, I had never even remotely wondered what Russ' chest might look like, let alone ever imagined he had THAT going on.
I just stood there, mouth agape. We made eye contact and he smirked. "Check this out."
He was making his pecs move. Mind you he was a little guy and wiry, thin, but his chest was unbelievable. Solid muscle, cut so sharply I couldn't even imagine how he got that way.
I moved closer.
"Pretty cool, huh?"
I think I said, "Yeah" but it came out more like a croak. "Dude... I... how did you? I mean... dude."
I was right in front of him and couldn't get over the strange feeling that he was taller. Or something. I barely ever thought of Russ as a "guy" let alone a "man." His shirt was hanging open, still covering his shoulders and somewhat obscuring his pecs and I couldn't stop staring. His chest was mostly hairless, a few dark strands around nipples the size of dimes. The movement he created was slight but mesmerizing.
I looked at his face again and he was grinning. "Pretty awesome huh?"
I nodded and returned my gaze to his chest.
"You can touch `em if you want, doesn't bother me."
I glanced in his eyes again, wondering if this wasn't going to result in me getting my ass kicked.
"Go for it dude. It's cool."
I lightly touched my fingers to his chest. The pulsing from the movement he created felt strange, but awesome. Up to this point I had never touched another guy - or girl - like this. He was warm. I could feel his heartbeat. His pecs felt just as solid as they looked, like granite. Warm granite.
I exhaled slowly. "Dude, I had no idea you... you obviously lift weights. All of them."
Russ grinned. "Yep. You never noticed these?" He lifted his arms and flexed. Even with the baggy, undone shirt his biceps appeared to double in size.
"Jesus," I muttered. Without thinking about it my hands moved up to his arms. They felt like steel cables. One of my hands slipped under the fabric. I wasn't exactly massaging him, I was still too surprised and more than a little scared to touch him forcefully. With his arms lifted the shirt finally opened enough to fully expose his chest.
So reality check #1: 10 minutes ago I was mopping floors thinking about a history final and wishing it was 11pm so I could clock off. Now I had my hands around my oddball coworker's biceps staring at his jaw-droppingly incredible naked chest. And I was possibly drooling. That's when I noticed the abs. Being a head taller than him they didn't get my attention at first.
"Jesus H. Christ, dude."
He looked down to see what I was looking at. He had a proud grin on his face. "Ever seen anything like `em?"
"Shit no." I counted eight distinct abdominal muscles. A literal washboard.
"Go ahead Jacky," he said. "Get a closer look."
Again I eyed him. I wasn't sure where this was going but I was now wishing the clock would stop so I could take my time examining him.
"It's cool dude," Russ whispered. "Nobody's here, it's all good. I don't do 300 sit-ups a day to not be proud of `em."
I slowly eased myself down to a squatting position. Russ angled himself a bit so what dim light we had would fall on his abs. Doing so made his shirt slip off his shoulders and gather around his forearms as he leaned back on the railing.
Crouching down was the first time in several minutes I became aware of my own body. My cock was hard as a rock. I was pretty sure I was leaking pre-cum. I hoped to god he didn't notice.
My face was just a few inches away from his stomach. I was trying to not breathe too hard. I reached my hand out and stopped, looking at him again for permission.
He smiled and nodded. "Go for it dude. Feel `em up. It's cool." A placed my fingertips lightly on his abs. He flinched. I looked up again and he was smiling. "Ticklish," he said. I returned his smile and placed both hands on his hips. My thumbs traced their way across his abs one by one from his waist up. He had a light dusting of dark hair down the middle. I couldn't believe how solid he felt.
His breathing had gotten heavier, matching mine. When my hands returned to his pecs I noticed his nipples were standing at attention. Without realizing what I was doing I tweaked them at the same time. Russ moaned, "Yeah."
"Sorry," I muttered breathlessly.
"Don't be sorry dude. Do that again." I did. He exhaled deeply. "Fuck, that feels good."
I slowly worked my hands back down his stomach. I was staring at his crotch. The heavy black material of his work pants made it impossible to tell if he was enjoying this as much as I was.
"Are you..." my voice trailed off. "Are your legs..."
Russ chuckled quietly. "Hell yeah dude. Lots more muscle going on down there."
I blushed. "I didn't mean... I mean... I just..."
"Dude!" he hissed. "If I wanted to kick your ass I'd have done it by now. How many times do I have to say it's cool? I'm liking this."
"Yeah?"
"Hell yeah. The way you're touching me I can tell you appreciate my bod. It's all good. I like that."
My hands went to his calves. Even covered in thick material they felt as hard as the rest of him. I slowly worked my way up to his thighs. We were both breathing heavily now. A light coat of sweat covered his chest and arms making his muscles stand out even more.
"Can I... " I still couldn't bring myself to put a sentence together.
"Wanna see more?"
"Yeah."
For the first time he looked around. We still hadn't heard the doorbell ding that we had a customer, but Russ clearly had a moment of clarity. Him standing there shirtless with me massaging him was one thing; him mostly naked was something else.
