Three times a week, I go to a gym after work -- one, to work off stress of the day and two, to keep in shape.
One night after work, I stopped by the gym and went through a serious workout. The first half, I worked on the lower part of body and the second half on the upper.
After the workout, I was soaked with sweat to I decided to take a shower there before going home. I always try to keep a change of clothes in my locker for such occasions.
The water felt great so I just stood there for about 10 minutes before actually lathering up.
I was about halfway through and was trying to get my back. Without a back brush, it's kind of tough to get at certain parts.
I thought I had achieved success when the bar of soap slipped out of my hand and to the floor and slid over to a guy I had never seen before. As he handed it, he said that he noticed I was struggling with my back and asked if he could be of some assistance.
I thought it was a come on and politely declined and started to work on my back -- struggling as I had been earlier.
He then walked over, took the soap out of my hand and said, "You're never going to get it," and proceeded to wash my back.
Since I no longer had possession of the soap, I conceded and let him work on my back. After a few minutes I was starting to get aroused and had him stop. I thanked him, rinsed off, dried myself, got dressed and headed home.
For the rest of the night, I tried to clear my mind of what happened in the shower. I had never, repeat NEVER, had any interest of doing anything with a guy and was sure I didn't want to.
After a couple of hours of trying to clear my head, I turned on the television and decided to watch the news. That seemed to work as I was getting tired and headed off to bed.
However, the minute my head hit the pillow my thoughts were back at the gym. And the more I tried to think of something else, the harder, no pun intended, it became to forget about it.
I finally decided to head to the bathroom and jack off, thinking that might ease the situation.
After I came, I laid down and closed my eyes. Back to the gym my thoughts went. After about 2 ½ hours of this, I finally dozed off.
The next day at work was miserable, having only gotten three hours of sleep. After work, I headed home and laid down. It didn't take me long to go to sleep.
This happened on a Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday was my day at the gym. I couldn't go that day. If I saw him, I wouldn't be able to concentrate and no telling what might arise.
I couldn't think of anything to do to occupy my time. Three times a week, the gym occupied two hours every Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
It took about two months before I returned to the gym. I had to because the lack of exercise was beginning to take effect.
It was a Monday and I nervously walked through the doors. I glanced around the gym and didn't see him so I proceeded to go through my workout. After the workout, I headed home.
On Wednesday, I returned to the gym and he wasn't there. I was beginning to wonder what I was so nervous about. I was relieved.
So for the next two months, life went about as before - work 9-5, go to the gym three times a week, an occasionally shower. The one day...
I saw him walk in and I tried not to make eye contact. He looked at me and just walked by. I thought, "Maybe he's forgotten about me." After my workout, I went home.
Two weeks later, I finished my workout and decided to take a shower. Halfway through, he walked in. I was embarrassed and turned away. Then I said to myself, "What are you fucking afraid of?"
I finished my shower and went to get a bite to eat, then home.
The next time I went to the gym, he was there again but I paid him no mind. During the workout, he came and sat at the bench next to mine.
We were going through several apparatuses when he stopped and asked, "Aren't you the guy that I helped out with that back problem?"
I nearly dropped the bar on my throat. I didn't look at him but I admitted to him I was. He stuck out his right hand and said, "Name's Marty."
"Adam."
We continued to work out and even spotted for each other. Afterwards, I headed to the shower and thought he was headed home. After a few minutes, Marty walked in and over to the stall next to mine.
When it came to me needing to wash my back, Marty offered his assistance. I held onto my bar of soap but he used his.
Once again, after a few minutes I started to get aroused. This time, Marty kept going and I was getting harder.
All at once, he reached around, lathered hand and all, and grabbed my cock. I swore I jumped 15 feet in the air. I pushed his hand away but he returned it and began stroking.
Then something happened that I didn't expect. I just froze and let him continue. I swear my cock got harder and harder, and his stroking got softer and softer.
The more Marty continued, the more I relaxed until I caught myself leaning into him. He ran his other hand across my forehead and pulled my head into his.
I could feel him getting hard against my ass so my curiosity took over and I reached down and grabbed his cock. It felt gigantic and for some reason, I began stroking him.
"Yes, yes. Feels good doesn't it?" I just moaned and he picked up the pace.
I felt myself getting close to losing my load when he must have sensed it and stopped. It was like jumping into a cold pool of water.
I whipped around and must have had a "what the hell" look on my face.
"You're not ready for this," he said. And with that, he left.
I stood there stunned. I couldn't believe he could just stop like that much less me wanting him to continue.
I dried off and headed out of the shower into the locker room -- but he was gone. I was so pissed and thought "The next time I see him, he was going to hear it."
A month went by, then two then three. What happened to Marty?
I couldn't believe there were times I was missing him. Or was it the experience I was craving?
Then one day, Marty was there. I asked him where he'd been. He said his job takes him out of town for months at a time and he had just returned.
After we worked out, I asked him if he wanted to go get something to eat. He switched it and asked if he wanted to go to his place for drinks.
Wow. His place for drinks? And what else I wondered.
I agreed to his place and we picked up a pizza on the way.
He lived in a three bedroom, two bath colonial that looked right out of the 1920's. I entered the living room and he directed me to the sofa. He came back with a bottle of vodka and two glasses and an ice bucket.
He poured the drinks and turned on the TV. There was a movie on I had never seen before so I got interested in it.
We had been watching the movie and drinking vodka for a while when I had to get up to go to the bathroom. I asked him where it was and he pointed down the hall.
When I stood up, I nearly fell back down. I didn't think I had drank that much. What I didn't realize was Marty had given me a "bottomless glass".
Marty put his hand on my back to steady me and I headed to the bathroom. I was standing there and noticed myself swaying. I didn't think I was that drunk but I was drinking on a fairly empty stomach.
I made my way back to the sofa and told Marty enough with the vodka.
"If I have much more, I might not be able to control myself," I said.
"Really?" he chirped back.
