I stood in the shower stall, tussling my soaking blond curls with a towel. Getting them dry was always a pain. It felt a little weird being at the gym so late; there wasn't the same reverberating sound of splashing water and friendly conversation echoing against the glossy tile walls. I normally went to the gym for an hour after work, but a medical appointment had derailed my schedule.
It had been a long day, and I felt something I couldn't quite label. I'd never been the type of guy who refused to acknowledge his emotions, so it genuinely felt odd to not have the word to describe what was going on inside of me. I did know, however, that I really wanted to go to a bar for an old fashioned after I got dressed. I knew I wouldn't go, though; I'd made a promise.
I still needed
something
to help me let go of everything. I'd just finished drying off my mop enough so it wasn't dripping when an option other than alcohol popped into my mind: the sauna.
I rarely used the gym's sauna since it didn't fit into my routine, but that didn't matter at 9 p.m. The only thing that could throw a wrench in my plan would be if it was closed after a certain hour. I knew the pool closed at ten, so I wondered if it was the same for the sauna.
I wrapped the slightly damp towel around my slender midsection. I felt a sense of pride in the fact that I'd just turned thirty and the size of my waistband was the same number as my age. Whereas other guys exiting their twenties were sprouting beer bellies and starting to complain about knee pain, I was in almost as good of shape as I had been in college.
I yanked back the curtain and stepped out of the cubicle. My shower sandals smacked against the floor as I started my journey. I was still in awe of the eerie silence. I'd seen a few other guys in the weightlifting area while I'd been on the treadmill, but I hadn't heard them entering the locker room while I'd been showering.
Good. Hopefully that means I get the sauna to myself.
I was pleased to find out that I'd been right; the sign posted on the sauna door said it closed at 10 p.m. That meant I'd have an entire hour to decompress and let myself become one with the heat. I knew it wouldn't leave me with the same buzz as a stiff drink, but it'd be good enough.
A wave of steam heat collided with my lean frame when I opened the door. It took a moment for my vision to readjust; when it did, I realized that nobody else was inside. I walked to the wall facing the door and planted myself in the center of the wooden bench.
I felt my body temperature rapidly raising. My hair felt heavy with dew again, like I'd never even dried it out. I leaned my head back against the wall behind me and let out a deep breath.
I'd barely had time to situate myself when I heard the door swinging open. My right hand instinctively went to my waist to check that my towel was still securely wrapped around it. I felt myself blush a bit, realizing that some youthful insecurities can still rear their ugly heads years later.
The steam parted as a large figure cut through it. He was so broad that he practically blocked all the light from flooding through the door behind him. Before I could make out his features, I leaned my head back against the wall again and closed my eyes. I wasn't sure why, but I wanted to look like he hadn't disturbed me.
I heard him settling into the bench on the wall to my left. It sounded like he was barefoot; I couldn't hear the telltale sound of plastic shower shoes. I listened tentatively for other noises; it didn't seem like he had any company.
After a minute or so of feigning relaxation, I pulled my head away from the wall. I slowly opened my eyes to see who had joined me.
Maybe it's someone I know, like one of the guys from spin class?
I glanced over to see a six-foot-five jock. He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place him. He seemed to be college age, and he could have easily passed for a star quarterback.
Who is he? How do I know him?
I stared at his face; he was looking at his phone, in spite of the water particles floating in the air between his nose and the screen. He had black, slicked-back hair and deep blue eyes. He was clean-shaven with a sharp jawline. His skin was a deep tan; it was clear he spent a lot of time in the sun.
My eyes wandered lower. His biceps were massive; they looked like two mountains situated on his arms. I knew I'd seen him with the other gym rats before, but I was certain I'd remembered him from somewhere else, too.
His massive pecs were covered in a dense swatch of black hair; his pink nipples peeked out from under their furry blanket. I was a little surprised, since most of the weightlifter types shaved their chests to a glossy smoothness.
The young man's body hair thinned out drastically at his belly. His six-pack abs were so defined they looked like someone could wash clothes on them. I felt a tinge of jealousy, but pushed it away. I'd never wanted to be a bodybuilder - I was more focused on staying lean and trim - but I'd never been able to get significant ab definition no matter how much time I spent working out.
My eyes continued their wandering journey. I began to gaze at his epic thighs.
Is that...? Is that his...?
I immediately tried to redirect my attention to the doorway. It was less than a second before my gaze was fixed back on the young buck's massive cock. It was draped across his right thigh. It just lay there like a relaxed snake splayed out on a log.
It was the biggest dick I'd ever seen in real life. I'd spent my time around plenty of amply endowed guys in college. Some had claimed to be seven or eight inches hard, but the cock that had just captured my attention seemed to be that size completely soft. Just as impressively, it looked like it was as thick as my wrist.
He was still distracted by his phone; he didn't even seem to be aware I'd pulled my head away from the wall and begun to ogle him.
I wonder how women react when they see that thing? Do they freak out and say it's too big? I guess that'd be something, though. It's got to be nice for the ego to hear 'I can't take it. It's too huge.'
Suddenly, I pictured the young jock's hard cock trying to force its way into a tight pussy. I could see the lips struggling to spread open as the massive meat stick inched its way inside.
What the fuck...?
I pushed the image away, like it had been a bumblebee dive-bombing my head.
"I know you..." I suddenly heard. My eyes darted away from his crotch. My cheeks immediately flooded with blood when I realized there was no way he hadn't seen me checking him out.
"What? Huh?"
"I know you," he repeated, putting his phone down on the bench next to him. "You were just in Smith's Drug last week. I work at the pharmacy counter."
Shit, that's where I know him from.
An image of him wearing a white button up with a plastic nametag emerged from deep in my memory. I recalled that he had always seemed nice enough, but we'd never had a real conversation.
"Oh, yeah," I said. "I thought I'd recognized you from somewhere. I couldn't tell if I'd just seen you around the gym or if it'd been somewhere else."
"Well... both, now," he said, with a slight chuckle. "What's your name again? I've only been training at Smith's for a few months, so I don't know everybody's names like the old-timers who've been there for twenty years."
"Drew," I said, trying to regain my composure. "You're... you're an intern? Are you in that pharmacist training program at the college?"
"Nah, not yet. I'm only just starting my junior year. I'm planning on applying, though. That's why I decided to work at Smith's even though I could make more cash as a personal trainer."
The college kid wiped away some beads of sweat that were starting to accumulate on his abs. The waving movement was like a beacon, but I knew that that was really just my excuse to steal another glance at the guy's massive hog.
"Nico," he said, pulling my eyes back to his. "That's my name: Nico."
I just nodded. I realized that my head was starting to feel light.
I should have brought a bottle of water in here with me.
