Greg pushed the button on the treadmill to make it speed up slightly. He could feel the ache starting in the right side of his stomach but he felt restless. Around him were people in various levels of fitness running, jogging or walking on the other treadmills. The gym was fairly packed for a Saturday evening but he'd been lucky enough to find an empty spot. Usually he skipped exercising on the weekends but he woke feeling out-of-sorts and decided to try the gym rather than pace his small apartment.
An attractive lady stole a glance at him, smiling as she did. He smiled back but kept his breathing to the proper rhythm. The woman stopped on her treadmill to wipe her face and stretch in an exaggerated manner, her chest pushing out to emphasize her breasts beneath the sports bra. Her eyes darted to Greg again before she went through a few quick stretches.
Greg sighed. She was part of the problem. Well, not her specifically. Women. He was twenty-eight years old and, as far as he knew he was straight. However, for the past few months Greg found himself fantasizing about men. One night, while he was masturbating to the thought of banging some made up woman he found himself wondering what it would feel like to be in her place. What would it feel like to have breasts with sensitive nipples? Breasts you could play with whenever you wanted. And a pussy... He'd seen his fair share of vaginas throughout his life and he'd always envied women with their ability to have multiple orgasms - mind blowing orgasms that left some of them speechless. So what would it be like to be the woman? To have some man pounding into you? He put himself mentally into the woman's position and came nearly immediately.
The next time, he started in the woman's position from the beginning and found himself rock hard within moments. And the next time. And the time after that. Soon, he found himself glancing at men and wondering - was it that man that was fucking "her" from behind? Or this other man? He sometimes wondered what it'd be like to kiss one them, to feel their hands on his body. At first, he'd jerk himself back from the recollections with shame and the next time he'd masturbate, he was the one doing the fucking. But, slowly, he'd wonder again and the next attractive man might end up being on the face of the man in his imagination.
Eventually the lines blurred and he didn't feel as ashamed. He caught himself staring at men more and more - the way they walked, their ass and legs, their mouths... and their crotch. Were they big or small? Would they fill him... "her" up? Would it hurt in a good way? It was always "her" when he masturbated, never him. He never imagined himself as a man getting fucked from behind. But, slowly, he wondered if that's how it might be. He didn't have an "Ahah!" moment where he shouted, "HEY! I'm gay! The universe makes sense now and everything is all right!" He simply found himself thinking that, yeah, maybe there was something to it.
He still liked women. He still wondered what some women would look like naked and he still imagined fucking them - and got hard thinking about it. But, sometimes he'd imagine a woman naked and think, "Yeah, I'd like to fuck the hell out of her." but then go to bed without masturbating. If he made the mistake of letting his mind wander over being the faceless woman on "her" hands and knees then he always had to masturbate. The visuals and feelings were too intense to ignore. So, perhaps not gay but at least bisexual.
"At least" bisexual. He sighed again. Part of him coming here today was to give himself time to think. Exercise always focused his mind. He glanced at the woman again and found her staring at his crotch. He felt his own hard-on and ground his teeth. Apparently the exercise didn't focus his mind enough; he'd been thinking about it again. Greg hit the emergency stop button and got off to walk around. It didn't help that his teeth hurt. Or his gums. One of them did. He'd been grinding his teeth since the night before and it'd kept him up. He did his best to keep his eyes off of the other guys around him while he did his upper body workout.
The weights felt strange as he worked through his sets. Sometimes he couldn't lift as much as he had before and sometimes he could lift more. Twice he had to have a guy help to spot him because he felt twitchy - never a good thing when lifting heavy weights above your own face.
When he finished his routine he still felt restless and his gums itched. He'd been in a few fights when he was younger and more stupid and this felt a little like that. He wanted to hit something over and over until he couldn't breathe anymore. The gym had an area with a few heavy bags but he'd never messed with them before. Now he was interested.
He heard some light thudding sounds coming from the room as he got closer to it. Greg stopped at the entrance to the room. A slightly built man was jabbing at one of the larger bags. The man was perhaps 5 feet 8 inches to Greg's 6 feet 2 inch frame. Where Greg was solid, this man was built smaller but in better shape - it looked like he had barely any fat on him. Whip-like. He worked around the bag, sometimes stepping back, sometimes in and sometimes weaving his upper body in a tight circle while he worked the bag. Sweat flew off of him when he punched and he breathed out sharply with a 'shh!' sound each time. He looked young but Greg couldn't place his age. Boyish. Maybe twenty-two?
Greg walked over to an empty bag before his brain could take that thought process any further. He glanced back at the other man and then took what he imagined to be a fighting pose. He lurched forward to punch the bag and then again. The impact of his fist on the bag was satisfying in a way he hadn't known before. Soon he was pounding away at the bag left and right.
A voice stopped him. "Ummm..."
Greg caught the wildly swinging bag and turned to face the smaller man. "Hey. What's up?" He asked.
"Well, it's probably none of my business but it looked like you haven't worked a bag before. I thought I might offer some advice. If you cared. If not, I'll apologize and let you get back to it."
Greg took a couple wheezing breaths. "No... No, please do. I just... It's my first time trying it."
A grin split the other man's face and Greg had to grind his teeth again. The guy wasn't handsome, he was... almost cute. He had a dash of light freckles across his nose and face and a heart-shaped face under a mop of unruly red hair.
"I could kind of tell." The man said. He stuck out his wrapped hand. "Thomas. Pleased to meet you."
"Greg. My pleasure. Now, what am I doing wrong?"
The guy laughed. "Oh, everything! Here, let's start with how you stand. I'll just run you through some basics."
He had been doing everything wrong. Thomas warned him to keep his wrists straight and not to lean into the punch. From there, they worked on his stance (left hand leading, legs apart) and the way he stepped. Greg lost himself in the instruction. "I guess I always thought you just punched." He told Thomas.
"Oh, well, yeah. That's one way to do it. You're a big fella so that might work for you but someone smaller like me could take you out if they knew a bit of boxing or some other martial art. Small and fast, that's they way I do it. Well, haha! Not all small." He grinned again and Greg had to look away. His heart was racing in his chest and it wasn't from punching the bag. "Besides," the man told him. "I can't seem to build much bulk so that's what works for me."
"Yeah. Hey, thanks, I appreciate it. Have you been boxing long?"
"About nine years. Started when I was a Sophomore in high school. I haven't done anything beyond spars but I try to keep it up for the exercise. And if I ever have to get in a fight, it'll help. You never know. Just hard to find a place with boxing equipment whenever I move around. I was lucky there was one here."
Greg took a few experimental punches, trying not to make the bag swing too much. "Oh yeah? Did you just move here?"
"Yup. Last week. I'm renting a little house near the edge of town. I haven't even finished unpacking yet." Thomas shrugged. "I got my bed, couch and TV and that's the important stuff. I'm going to hit the showers and head out. It was nice meeting you! Maybe I'll see you around next time?"
Greg closed his eyes against the 'shower' comment. He turned his back to the man to hide his boner. He knew what the problem was - Thomas was cute in a nearly androgynous way that blurred the line between man and woman. He grunted and punched the bag, hard. "Yeah, definitely! Thanks again for showing me the ropes. I'll just be here for a while." He didn't watch the other man leave and he cursed himself for his lack of manners.
When Thomas was gone, Greg pounded away at the bag. He was a tolerant man and, aside from unthinking comments when he was a child, had nothing against homosexuality. It was just that it had never applied to him. He felt confused and seeing this young man didn't make it any better. "And my goddamned teeth hurt!" He roared.
Another voice answered him. "Maybe you should go see a dentist?" Greg spun as his face turned crimson. A large black man was watching him curiously.
