When I walked into the gym, the first thing that struck me was how empty it was. For a Monday evening, there were surprisingly few people working out. After scanning in at the desk and turning the corner to the weight room, I looked out over the nearly empty floor and found that aside from a machines and a squat rack being occupied, I was free to use the machines without having to wait or worry about prying eyes wondering when I'd be finished. That was quite the relief.
Having just gotten out of a long relationship, I did what most other guys do and decided to get back on the fitness wagon. Self-improvement and all that. The downside to this was that it had been quite a long time since I had lifted. My ex insisted that she loved the way my body was regardless, so over time I abandoned my goal of bulking up, and resigned to remaining rather thin. More of a runner's body, really. I had run track in high school and was always lean and fit, but now that I was single again I decided it couldn't hurt to bulk up a little bit. This of course, would mean I'd have to get used to all of the motions again. The bench press seemed as good a place to start as any.
I wandered over to an empty bench and threw on some plates I was fairly confident I could lift. I guess I either overestimated my abilities, or forgot what gravity was, because after 2 reps I felt my arms giving way, and I was unable to get the bar back up to its original resting place.
I could feel my face growing darker and darker shades of red, and before long I had resigned to sitting there looking like a helpless child. Just as I began to convince myself I was going to die on that bench, staring up at the white fluorescent lighting, a shadow eclipsed the brightness in my vision and quickly grabbed the bar, helping me lift it up to the rack safely.
It took a while to catch my breath. As I lay there, my vision returning to normal, the silhouette of the person standing above me began to show more detail. There stood a tall, slender but muscular guy who seemed to be around my age, mid 20s. I started to notice his sandy brown hair, brown eyes, and his very white, enthusiastic smile as he stared down at me with a slight look of concern.
As my eyes continued to return to my sockets, I saw he was wearing a tight grey t-shirt that clung to his chest and slightly tanned arms. It was no surprise he was able to lift this bar off my chest so easily. He was in really good shape.
"You alright man?" he said as he held the bar to make sure it wasn't going to roll off and crush my head.
After a couple deep breaths, I was able to reply.
"Yeah, *huff* I guess these weights are heavier than I remember *huff* haha." I let out a nervous laugh in an attempt to deflect the embarrassment.
Once he saw I wasn't in danger anymore, he seemingly figured it was ok straighten his back into more of a standing position, and less of a hunching one. This caused his torso to disappear from view, which meant he was now standing over me upright, and I could see much more of his lower body.
"I hope you don't mind, I saw you having a hard time and figured you might have needed some help."
As he said those words through that same concerned smile, my vision was still returning to normal and allowing me to get a clearer picture of who was standing above me. My head was about level with his knees, so I was able to see that his lower body donned some grey athletic tights and some loose fitting athletic shorts. I didn't notice how short they were at first, but as my eyes made their way back up to make contact with his, they first made contact with something that appeared to be sticking out from under his shorts. It didn't take long to make out what it was. Along his left thigh, held in place by his athletic tights, was a bulge that stuck out at least a full 2 inches from where his shorts ended.
In hindsight, I don't think I had fully processed what was right in front of me before I started to speak.
"No worries man *huff*, I really appreciate the hel-"
I froze when I noticed the aforementioned bulge at the forefront of my vision. I don't quite remember the first thought that came to my mind, but I do remember thinking to myself "This is the closest I've been to another man's penis before."
I distinctly remember the sight. It was hanging down his left leg, and as my eyes adjusted further I noticed the amount of detail revealed by the spandex tights he was wearing. I could see the faint outlines of veins along the last inch or so of the shaft, and the ridge where it met the head. I'm not sure if it was the angle or the fact that it was so close to my face, but the next thing that came to my mind was how big it looked.
After staring for what I thought was a few seconds, I remember starting to wonder if what I was seeing was real, and why I was so fixated on the outline of this guy's cock right in front of me.
I'm not sure how long I was frozen staring at it, trying to figure out whether I felt awkward or intrigued as the blood began to drain from my face and the air finally returned to my lungs. It must have been longer than I thought, because he quickly bent back over and brought his face closer to mine, removing his spandex-cradled package from my view.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" he said, trying to make sense of the words I mumbled before freezing.
I wasn't looking him in the eyes when he said it though. For some reason, my eyes followed his bulge as it moved to the peripheral of my vision. I don't know why, but it was intriguing to see the details of his anatomy so vividly.
After a few seconds of silence, it was clear he knew what I was looking at. I knew he knew, but I was unable to avert my gaze for another couple seconds before I snapped out of it and decided it would be best if I continued this conversation in a not-so-horizontal position.
I stood up as quickly as I could while he looked at me with what seemed like a mix of concern and contained enthusiasm. I wasn't sure why.
"Sorry, still trying to catch my breath." I said once I was fully stood up and looking him in the eyes once again.
