***Note that the following story is a work of semi-fiction, or maybe "inspired by a true story." Part is 100% true, and part is fantasy, and I leave it to the reader to determine which is which. Certain details have been tweaked to protect the "innocent."***
I've always been a standard-issue, comfortably straight guy. He was a standard-issue, comfortably straight guy. But we met in one of the gayest ways possible.
I was just shy of being 30 years old. I was working and taking classes to finish up an advanced degree at the time, hoping to jump start my career. Together these things pretty much torpedoed any free time I might have had. One thing that I absolutely, resolutely made time for was swimming laps pretty much daily at the local gym; the activity kept me sane after a long day of sitting on my ass. The net result was I had a nice tight build. I may not have had the bulk of some of the guys, but I certainly felt no shame in the locker room and I'd never felt better. Unlike other swimmers, or many guys my age, I never shaved my body hair or trimmed my bush... too lazy, I guess, with everything else going on. But more than that, I actually liked looking like a man. No false modesty, I was good looking and had never really had trouble with the ladies, but after a year of slaving away both at work and in the time-suck of a master's program, I was in a deep, deep romantic rut.
Because swim lanes were always in high demand, I usually hit the gym later on at night. And in truth, given the rat-race I was running, I thoroughly enjoyed having the place pretty much to myself, as it gave me time to recharge and refocus.
This one particular night, I had finished up my laps and retired to the locker room. It was deserted, and I moved into the jacuzzi room. A nice soak always helped unclench my muscles, and I feel no shame in saying I loved the way the bubbles felt on my naked balls.
And then, he opened the door and came in.
I was surprised, as I rarely saw another person this late... but whooo boy the newcomer caught my eye. Like I said, I thought of myself is perfectly straight and had never really... well, swooned over another guy before, but this guy was insane. He was the textbook definition of an all-American jock. His face was impressive enough... I mean, he looked like he just walked off a movie set. There was a bit of boyishness to him that was instantly disarming. But complimenting this was a freaking amazing body--a powerful build without being overly bulked up for just for show, like some of the gym rats I've run across. No, those muscles were built for use... I wondered what he played? He had dark hair, and like me he had a good dusting of hair across his arms, body, and crotch ... not like Sasquatch, but looking like a fucking man. And seeing him in all his naked, Olympian glory literally stopped my breath for a second. I mean, who was this guy...?
I was so struck by his manly form that it took me a minute to register that other unusual thing about him: he was on crutches.
Oh shit. That was going to be a problem.
You see, this room, and the jacuzzi itself, were not at all designed for a guy on crutches. The jacuzzi wasn't built into the floor, but sitting on top of it... forcing anyone who wanted to enter it to climb a short set of stairs, then pivot to walk down the stairs in the water to be able to take a seat. At best those steps were wet and slightly treacherous... but with a mobility issue? Plus, it didn't help that the room itself was only slightly larger than the tub, making it a tight space to navigate. He had very little room to position himself at the foot of the stairs. I immediately sensed this could get tricky fast.
The Olympian bent down and removed a brace from his right leg, and set it aside with his crutches. He hobble-hopped to the stairs, grabbed the hand rail, and with a deep breath, started hopping his way up. I saw his injured foot as he moved, and it looked nasty--a bit swollen but it was one nasty mass of purple-blue-black bruises. That must have hurt like a motherfucker. Still, he made it to the lip of the jacuzzi, and was positioned to make his way into the tub itself.
So far so good.
During all of this, I was trying to be nonchalant--I mean, really... sitting there naked, what was I going to say to a naked Greek God hopping his way into a hot tub with what looked like the grimmest of grim determination? As he moved, however, I slowly positioned myself to move fast if I needed to. But casually; I didn't want to disrespect him or his effort, or give any indication that I didn't think he could make it.
Well, he didn't make it.
What happened next was a spectacular, slow-mo disaster. He had started down the stairs in the tub, with the water churning around him. He was clutching the hand rail with white-knuckle intensity as he hopped down the first of the steps. He made the first one, but not the second. His good foot slid out from under him, causing him to lose his balance, and he started going down. He desperately grabbed the rail and clutched it with one hand, which somewhat broke his fall, but his momentum meant that his body continued to pinwheel sideways, and he fell over backwards.
Right towards where I was sitting.
Ass first. Into my face.
Purely by instinct, I shot my hands forward to keep him from smashing into me... and without any thought, squarely planted my hands on each one of his hairy asscheeks. Just like I was setting a volleyball.
"Dude! Dudedudedudedudedude!" I barked out, trying to keep him from thrashing around and making things worse. "It's ok, it's ok... I got you. I'm not letting go, you're good. Are you hurt?"
"No," he hissed back through gritted teeth. I imagine there was some pain, and an Olympic-sized heaping of absolute humiliation. "I'm ok. But... I can't... I can't stand up."
It was a preposterous situation. The guy's naked ass was mere inches from my face. My hands, while keeping him steady, were slightly pushing his cheeks apart, giving me a close-up-and-personal view of the Olympian's asshole, nestled in thick dark hair. I had never seen anyone's asshole that close, and... well, his pucker had transfixed me. It was like....
Jesus. What was I doing? Snap out of it. We have a situation, here!
"Ok. We got this," I said in what I hoped was a bright, easy-breezy tone. "I tell you what we're gonna do. On the count of three, I'm going to push you forward. Once you get your center of gravity under you, grab onto the rail with your other hand to stabilize yourself. You should be able to pivot from there. Ok?"
