"You know what I'd really like to be doing?"
Yeah, Eben thought, you'd really like me to be fucking you. But you're going to dance around the bush before we get there. "No, what?" was what Eben said. He lifted the bar bell from the guy half his age and size with one hand and lowered it back on the stands.
The guy looked good stretched out on the bench below him. He was twenty-four, he said, less than half of Eben's forty-nine. Nice, male-model face, a sunny blond with a great smile. He had a sleek, smooth runner's body. He was just in running shorts and shoes. Nice, tight body, no fat on him. Not bulked up like Eben was but a very nice body. There was a lot Eben could do with a body like that. A lot he would do with Brian's body. The guy was begging for it. If you could stay in body-builder shape even at forty-nine, the possibilities opened up for young men who wanted to take pleasure from your experience.
"It's such a nice day out this evening—practically no humidity—that I'd really rather be running," the young man said. He was full of discussion tonight, like he wanted to keep Eben from drifting off to someone else or somewhere else on the gym floor. Houston's humidity in late June and early July could be oppressive, and, indeed, it was a rare low-humidity day.
Sure, you would, Eben thought, looking down at the sleek runner's body. "I could go for that too," he said. If this was Brian's move to get Eben alone and away from the gym, Eben was all for it.
"You run?" Brian said, looking up at the body-builder's physique that blew him away. A buzz-cut, superbly fit older guy who'd said he'd been an Army Ranger but had spent most of his life abroad in what would be oilfields in remote areas if he said there was oil underground there. What really had Brian's juices going was the man's full-sleeve tattoo covering the left side of his torso and his left arm. A colorful, busy tattoo swirling around from his shoulder blade to cover his bulging left pectoral and running all the way down his arm to his wrist. When you first looked at it it was just a swirl of vibrant colors, but, upon closer inspection, it was a fanciful Oriental dragon, the head resting on the pec. The really arousing aspect to it, though, was the dragon's tail, which dipped down to the man's belly and then even further, under the waistband of Eben's athletic briefs.
The tail carried the eye down Eben's Zeus-like torso to the waist on the left side and then to speculating where it went from there, and inevitably took the eye to the man's bulging basket. Brian needed to get out into the evening breeze to cool himself down. He came to the gym to get laid. Going for Eben would be reaching for the top of the manflesh at the gym. He would have thought it would be someone his own age, but, no, Eben, even in his forties, was sex on a stick.
"Yep, I run," Eben answered. "I've run all over the world. Most places I wind up don't have any other distraction than working out and running up hills—while watching for terrorists." And fucking sleek young men, Eben added in his thoughts.
"You work in oil?" Brian asked.
"Yes. Finding it. Rocks. Knowing what the rocks on the surface tell us about the likelihood there's oil below the surface. How much there is; how far down to you have to go to yank it out of the ground. Rocks." And getting my rocks off with honeys like you, Eben thought.
"Sounds exciting. I'm just a computer nerd—the help desk at Best Buy. Looking for oil. That sounds really interesting. And you were in the army, I hear. A Ranger?"
I don't have to give you my life story to get my dick in you, I hope, Eben thought. Having been raised by a bizarre family of nomads, following the scent of oil across the Middle East and Central Asia, naming their kids weird names like Ebenezer, making them think that a rough, minimalized life in the deserts was the best a kid could ever want, sticking them in the army—two Afghanistan tours—to toughen them up, and with the only result being that the kid could and did live rough, had trouble figuring out civilization, and could, like his dad before him, look at a landscape and know whether there was exploitable oil under it—how much and how far down. Oh, and being with only men and without women for such long stretches of time that he learns to get his rocks off with men—and eventually decides he likes it better that way.
Men's needs and wants were simple. They were complicated like women were—especially if you didn't want entanglements, if you only wanted to get your rocks off and move on.
"You wanta run, let's do some running," he said to Brian, putting it on the line. Did Brian want to move forward with this or not? "There's a loop the gym recommends, mostly through a park."
So, they went out into the early evening shadows of the Houston suburbs and ran, Brian running like a gazelle and Eben like a lion, but the two maintaining a pace they both liked that kept them comfortably close together. They pulled up at a water fountain at a remote clearing along the running path in a wooded park. They hadn't seen anyone else in the park for some time.
Brian was making doe eyes at Eben, which Eben didn't mind and had expected. For some time he wondered which one of them would make the first move. They were both well beyond being surprised that a move would be made—and a deal nonverbally struck, and a fuck completed. He let Brian make the first move.
"Your tattoo. It's magnificent. Such vibrant colors. A fantastic design. Where did you get it?"
"Tashkent. Spent four months there once. Took nearly the full time to get it completed. I knew what I wanted. I always know what I want." He'd matched the last comment with a meaningful look at Brian—and wondered why the dummy didn't pick it up and run with it. "You can touch it if you want."
Brian did want and he ran his fingers over the tattooing. Eben looked into the younger man's face while he did it. His "I'm going to fuck you" expression was not challenged by Brian.
"So artistic and clever. And, I gotta say, sexy. Where does that tail lead? So, provocative." OK, so he is going with it, Eben thought.
Brian traced the design a second time, up from the arm, over the pec—and then the tapering tail, down Eben's chest, to the waistband. He paused there, just long enough that they both knew he was there.
"Go ahead. I know you want to," Eben said.
With a little smile Brian glided his finger down to the root of Eben's cock and said, "It goes down to there, doesn't it?"
"And further," Eben said. He turned his face down and put his hands on Brian's arms, above the elbows, and pulled the younger, smaller man toward him. Brian raised his face, the one to take the initiative, and they kissed. His hand followed his exploratory finger under the waistband and to the older man's core. He sucked in his breath when he wrapped his fingers around the base of the cock and realized how thick Eben was.
Eben pulled away from the kiss, smiled down into Brian's face, and said, "Bingo. That's where the dragon's tail goes."
"Fuck me," Brian whispered. "Let me suck it and then fuck me."
"You never know who will come along in the park," Eben said. "Let's go back to the gym."
The showers at the gym were individual cubicles, but they had curtains on them. The two embraced, chest to chest, under the cascading water, and kissed. Then Brian sank slowly to his knees, following the body, and then the tail of the dragon down Eben's torso with his lips, into the older man's trimmed pubes, the hair kept thin enough not to obscure the tapering of the tail. He encircled the root of the cock, where the end of the tail curled, with a finger and worked on the thick, long, erect cock with his mouth until, with time and effort, his lips were able to touch tail's end.
It was a quite satisfactory blow job.
Eben lifted the young man up to his feet after he'd given the guy his load. They kissed and soaped each other up, maintaining a close embrace, exploring each other with their hands. Brian leaned his torso back, with one of Eben's strong arms wrapped around his waist and panted and groaned as Eben penetrated his ass with two thick fingers, soaping and cleaning him as deep as the two fingers could reach, and stroking Brian's prostate. Brian flinched and came, up Eben's belly. The cum was washed away by the cascading water and Brian pulled his lithe chest up to Eben's. They kissed again.
"Fuck me," Brian whispered. "Put it in me. You're huge. Stretch me. Make me suffer. Fuck me."
"There's an Astro's game on TV in a half hour. Come home with me."
"Yes."
"For the night."
