I was just finishing up a workout at the University gym, when I noticed this younger, athletic dude who looked fresh out of high school was checking me out. The twink was barely eighteen, with a lithe, athletic build that suggested he was just starting to take his fitness seriously. His short, dark hair clung to his forehead in damp curls, and his cheeks were flushed from the steam. But it wasn't just his body that caught my attention. It was the way he looked at me, like he was trying to memorize every detail of my frame, from the broad shoulders I'd spent a couple years sculpting, to the veins that snaked down my forearms.
I smirked, letting my eyes linger on him for a moment before I closed them again, feigning disinterest. But I could still feel his presence, a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. The gym was quiet, since it was after 10pm, save for the soft hum of the air circulation systems, and I let the silence stretch, curious to see what he'd do next.
He didn't disappoint.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fumbling with his shorts as he adjusted himself, and when I glanced his way again, I saw it--his cock, thick and heavy, sticking out the leg of his shorts. There was the ostensibly plausible deniability that it was an accident, but it was clear that he was flashing me in public in the gym. I glanced around the room and confirmed that no one was there. My breath caught in my throat, and I felt a familiar heat pooling in my groin. It wasn't just the size of it, though it was undeniably impressive. It was the way he presented it, so confidently, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
I had been working out for a few years and had gotten my muscles trained pretty well, hitting new personal records every year in my lifting, so I was never surprised when a freshly legal, horny little gay boy ogled me. I had to admit I found the attention flattering, but I had never taken things to the next level with a guy, even though I was sure they would give better head and probably let me rough them up a lot more than any chick would.
I gave him a wink and headed to the locker room. Even though he looked like he had just started working out, he followed me in. I saw him across the row of lockers out of the corner of my eye, and when I dropped my shorts to reveal my hefty cock, I could feel his eyes burning a hole through me. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the steam room. I took a deep breath of the hot steam and was happy to find it empty. Of course, a minute later the twink came in and sat near me.
The steam clung to my skin, warm and heavy, as I leaned back against the tiled wall of the steam room. My muscles, still buzzing from the workout, ached in that satisfying way that comes from pushing your limits.
I leaned back, letting the steam roll over my skin, and took a deep breath. My pecs flexed with the movement, and I saw him swallow hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. The air between us was thick with tension, electric and unspoken, and I knew he could feel it too. I closed my eyes, letting the heat seep into my pores, and I felt it--thatΒ gaze. It was subtle at first, just a flicker of attention, but it grew stronger, more insistent, until I couldn't ignore it.
I don't usually make much conversation in there, but I was in a friendly mood after the attention I'd been getting from the twink.
"You new here?" I asked, slightly opening my eyes and glancing at him.
"Yeah, I'm a Freshman," he said meekly, openly admiring my pecs that were pumped from the workout. I gave him a bit of a show with some deep breaths, making my round pecs slowly move up and down, and I saw him adjust his cock under the towel multiple times. I had to chuckle at that. I casually released my crotch from its towel covering, letting my full body soak in the steam. I normally only did this if I was alone in there, but I was having fun with this guy. There was a hint of shyness in his face, but an undeniable cock-suredness in the way he held himself, and I could see the hunger in his eyes, the way they kept drifting back to my chest, my arms, my hanging cock.
"How do you like the city?" I asked.
"It's pretty cool," he said, not offering much for conversation, apparently just here to stare at me.
After a minute of quiet steam room meditation, he got bold and opened up his towel as well, joining me in some male bonding, letting his big, floppy cock that was probably half hard plop down onto the towel below him. It looked like a cock that belonged to someone else--a much bigger and more mature man--not the nubile, pale, curly haired little twink that couldn't hide his youthful infatuation with me. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, giving me a chance to openly stare. He had the biggest cock I had ever seen, and I thought mine was large. His two big tangerine sized balls were pressed to the side by the weight of his thick salami, which literally hung down obscenely over the edge of the bench and flopped downward. The twink shifted on the bench, his cock twitching as it lay heavy on the towel. He was clearly worked up, his breathing shallow and quick.
Over the time since he had first glanced my way, this little exhibitionist game with the