The hour was late afternoon. The setting was the courtyard behind the building. The sliding glass doors in front of me lead to a pool and hottub. Guys including me are lounging about in the nude under the sun. The dude lying in the chaise lounge 10 feet to my left has the toned physique that I regard as sexy as hell. My eyes move from his body to others with average physiques. Even those having just average physiques can make me want them, just not as desperately.
I had just finished a regimen of weightlifting. I had been in the weightroom for nearly three quarters of an hour, much of it spent waiting for another guy to finish a set.
Nothing unusual happened over the next couple of days. For that matter, nothing extraordinary ever happens, at least not in my life.
I'm 25 years old. For months the secret desire to indulge in man on man sex has made me sneak a peak in the lockerroom and unable to chat with a guy in the courtyard without looking at his dick. Being the only gay gym member in a courtyard populated by naked men doesn't exactly make me a happy camper.
Friday morning finds me in my my cubicle employing my Masters degree in engineering to the firm's latest project, a military application. Colleague John Nile is in his thirties, gay and married. He's the only one outside of my immediate family and small circle of friends who knows that I'm gay, although others in the firm may suspect that.
John is a handsome dude with light-brown hair and blue eyes. He has a square face and full lips. Dimples appear when he smiles.
"Are you going to lunch," I asked.
"That time already," he replied looking up from his CADCAM.
As we sat eating he rambled on about a movie he'd seen recently on Prime. It was one I hadn't seen and just then decided not to watch it. "You spoiled the plot," I teased.
Like me, he occasionally watches gay themed movies.
I asked after several seconds, "did I tell you the gym I go to has clothing optional pool."
"No you didn't," he said.
"It does," I said.
He asked, "are there a lot of members."
I said, "I seldom see fewer than half a dozen guys in the courtyard or fewer than twenty working out."
"Swimming is very good exercise," he said.
There are one or two guys there who really make me want to jack off or jump on their bones, I thought. For the time being I keep that to myself.
"My husband Alan runs 5 miles a day."
I said, "hard on the back, on the knees."
John grinned at the remark.
I asked, "how did you meet him."
"We were in the same fraternity at BU, Delta Lambda Phi."