I live in a state in the Southeast in a rural county with three small towns. The towns are about seven to ten miles away from each other, so you're usually stuck in them. The next biggest city is over twenty miles away, so everything has to be planned out ahead; otherwise, you have to deal with the limited resources in each small town, do without, or order online.
I was thankful that I lived in the county seat where the small county medical center was located. They had, a few years ago, opened a gym/wellness center in the community center complex where people could go to fitness classes and to workout. It was also where a regional community college annex was located, so the two institutions had pooled their resources and made this gym available to both students and locals.
My parents didn't think I was ready for a university twenty miles away, so I was getting my basics at the community college, and helped my dad part-time at our hardware store. The rest of my time was spent at the gym - working out and swimming, or even in the local library which was also in the complex (they had a great WiFi connection).
It was in the library I first noticed Grainger, or Gray, as he said. He was about my height, but that's where the similarities ended. He was drop dead gorgeous. His dark blonde hair was buzzed on the back and sides; a long shag of hair on top of his head which fell into his beautiful dark blue eyes. He had pierced ears, a square male model profile, and a big white grin. His body was like out of a men's fitness magazine, and I loved looking at it. He never kept his shirt buttoned completely up, always showing off his muscles and his dense brown groomed chest hair. His always tanned arms were covered in veins pushing against hard muscle.
I found out he had moved here from Colorado to live with his aunt who was a nurse at the medical center. He never went into much detail about the reason why he had moved, just saying he and his parents thought he just needed to get away.
Like me, he complained about the quiet ruralness. He would tell me that the town he came from in Colorado was a small town too; but because of the scenery, the skiing, and other local attractions, there were always tourists coming and going. He talked about all the major retailers that had little shops on the main street. He talked about the coffee shops and clubs. It really depressed me. I was more depressed when he would talk about all the touristy girls he would fuck.
"I'd go into a coffee shop at two in the afternoon and be in some tight shaved pussy by two-fifteen," he'd brag, laughing and flashing a big grin.
Grainger was not shy about talking about sex. He was sex. He had those natural body movements that were just attention-grabbing sexy cool. He could charm everyone he met. Every girl he talked to ended up blushing as he talked to them. All this made my gay self roll my eyes and actually feel uncomfortable sometimes when he talked to me. When we first met, I felt he was even flirting with me...but what did my awkward self know about flirting in a small town? I was like the only gay guy I knew for miles. I chalked it up to me just being horny all the damn time.
Grainger and I became fast friends. We discovered we shared a lot of similar interests -games, music, movies and such. He would hang out at my house quite a bit during the week and on weekends, sometimes staying over on the big couch in my basement room.
My parents had turned the basement into a large bedroom with a bathroom and sitting area with its own private outside door, and I had made it mine - my parents thought it'd give me a chance to demonstrate my independence before university.
I had been afraid to tell Grainger that I was gay, thinking he'd be scared off. I was really enjoying our friendship. I eventually I got the nerve and just told Grainger that I was gay. He just shrugged his shoulders and kept playing his video game.
"I had some great gay friends in Colorado. I'd do anything for them, and they would do the same for me. Great guys. It's cool, man," he added, as he twisted his body as his car crashed in the game.
My parents loved Grainger, thinking he was a good influence on me. And, of course, he flirted with my mom. She loved the attention of the beautiful college boy. I had noticed that she and Dad had started to take more weekend trips, leaving the running of the store to my Uncle Pete. I also had been noticing that my dad was friskier with my mom; they were kissing and touching each other more than they had in the past.
"I flirt with you mom, and she feels like a hot young thing again. She is a babe for her age. Your dad is fucking lucky to have that served to him every night. I bet your dad is getting pussy all the time now," he told me, elbowing me in the side while playing a video game. "I wonder if she thinks of me when he's fucking her."
"Dude, not cool!" I told him. "That's my mom,"
"I know, man, but you have to admit I'm one hot fucker," he said, as he dropped his controller and pulled his shirt off.
Of course, I stared at the tight muscled torso. Hair covered his bulging chest muscles and ran down as a dense trail to his eight-pack stomach, disappearing past his belt buckle into his tight jeans. You could visibly see every individual muscle on his fat-free torso. He was like a god.
"I bet even you jerk off your cock thinking about this perfect bod," he laughed and pretended to box me. He laughed and pushed me backward onto the couch. He landed on top of me and stopped laughing. I could feel the heat from his body against me, pressing into me. He stared at me with his dark blue eyes; I could see every lash around them. I squirmed around hoping he didn't feel the raging hard-on I had.
He grabbed my wrists and pushed my arms back to the armrest. He started to grind against me like a Magic Mike stripper.
"You horny...just rides it...my pony...I'm on it...I'm horny," he tried to sing, his eyes closed and him pretending to act soulful.
"You are a nut," I told him.
Then he laughed really loud and jumped up. He grabbed his game controller and started playing again. I rolled over to hide my hard cock. I grabbed a pillow and turned around toward him, pushing my hair back and taking a deep breath.
"You okay, dude?" he asked, turning toward me. "I was just playing, you know?"
"Yeah, I know," I answered back, weakly. "I know."
He didn't put his shirt back on all night.
After that night, things changed a bit. Grainger seemed a bit nicer to me and more touchy-feely. It wasn't overt, just small subtle things. Maybe I was just more conscious of it. Little grins. Seeing him stare at me from the corner of my eye. Little pats on my back that ended with slide downward. A soft massaging grab on my shoulder. I wasn't complaining, I was really enjoying the attention from such a perfect stud.
And he was becoming more exhibitionistic with his body in front of me. I took it as just signs that he was getting comfortable around me. He's strip off his shirt all the time, every chance he had. He walked around in a towel after his shower, adjusting his big cock. He would walk around the basement in his tight boxer briefs, eating an apple or doing stuff instead of getting dressed when he stayed over on the couch. I'd frequently see his round firm ass and his fat soft cock as he paraded around or was getting dressed. I was a bit shy about that kind of thing, but Grainger had no problems doing it at all.
I couldn't help but to notice the size of his cock. It was the chubbiest longest soft cock I had ever seen, creating a plump bulge in his skinny jeans. He was always adjusting it, sometimes as he flirted with girls or talked to other guys. He knew how to be the alpha male, using his huge cock to his advantage. Once they judged how big it was, people would usually let him have or do anything he wanted. I however had gotten to know him too well...although I myself was still enamored by him sometimes.
Grainger got a part-time job at the wellness center as a gym trainer and evening manager. They closed about eight at night, and I'd usually be there late keeping Grainger company and working out on slow nights. Well, slow nights is an understatement, they were dead nights.
Most people used the gym early in the morning or after work. Nights generally consisted of classes elsewhere in the complex or things like dance or aerobic classes in the studio upstairs. Sometimes, after closing, Grainger would change and we'd grab a burger. Other times, he'd clean up quickly and we'd go back to my house, have dinner, and play video games all evening.
