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Anyway, here’s the deal - my pal Stephen belongs to the gym I used to belong to, before I started paying a rent higher than my old one plus my gym membership fee for a building with a tiny gym in the basement. All right, my math sucks. Never mind. I’m telling you now what he told me, turning it into my own, first-person narrative. I know the story is real, not only because I know Stephen, but because I remember the guy he had his encounter with from my own days there….)
The first thing I saw was the back. From my locker row across the aisle, there it was: naked, glistening with sweat, V-shaped and with a star tattoo centered just between the shoulder blades. I said a soft “Damn”, both at that back and at the fact that, having just changed into my work out gear, I couldn’t legitimately join this dude in the showers. But I could take my sweet time lacing up my Nikes.
The Back kept facing the other way, first rummaging through a duffel, then stretching. I kept my glances fast and spaced, always ready to seem casual. Still, my eyes must’ve been burning something into those shoulder blades. Because the Back suddenly turned to say “Hi” without skipping a beat. It was a nice “Hi” too, totally friendly, a little forced, maybe. That’s when I recognized him. He was there a lot, working out for long hours at a stretch. We’d only nodded to each other. And, each time we had, I was taken with the Mediterranean prettiness of this guy’s face. Handsome, swarthy, chiseled, with lips just full enough and black eyes under a black crewcut. This is not a look you see a lot in the South.
“Hey, how’s it goin’,” I said. My dick was hard. In about two seconds. My hands were shaking, too. This was crazy. I’d seen hot guys before. But something suddenly intimate was going on, as though all those times we’d nodded had been like dating and now this near-nakedness was the reward. I propped one leg up to hide the rise in my shorts. Then I invented something bothering me in my sock, like a pebble. So I had to take my sneaker off and check it out. I had to stay a while longer.
“Good, good,” he answered, way too loudly. There was something a little off about this stud. I heard it in the too-pronounced “Hi.” I’d felt it in the gym, all that time he spent maintaining a hot body when a third of the time would’ve easily done it. There was a kind of desperation to his friendliness, a focus he kept up because he was afraid of dropping it for a moment. He turned his back to me again, now, and slid off his sweat pants. No one else was around so I thought, fuck it. I stared. Two beautiful half moons of tight ass, pushed nicely in by the straps of his jock. Traces of black hair in the crack, and the backs of thighs as sculpted as a stallion’s. He stood fully erect. And took, I thought, way too long to roll up a pair of dirty sweats.
By now it was like a current was running between us in that locker room. That is, I just knew when he was about to turn again. Sure enough, I returned to trying to find the imaginary pebble just in time. But I could see, peripherally, that he was not merely looking my way–in that fixed, too open, too friendly way of his–but was hoping, maybe, to generate more small talk.
“Fuckin’ hot in there today,” he said, adding a stagy “whew” to it. I took in the big, very dark nipples on the meaty pecs. That’s the great thing about pecs ‒ you can scope them out without straying too far from the proper face area. Then he raised his arms, revealing patches of black pit hair and wiping them with the sweats. Huh? He’s done working out, he’s ripe, and he’s taking the time to use rank gym pants to wipe out his wet armpits when the showers are just down the hall? I had a sense of watching a stripper thrown in front of an audience for the very first time. He liked this, what was happening. He just didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.
“Well, that’ll save me warm-up time, then,” I feebly joked. Which he took seriously, nodding as though I’d said something perceptive. OK, I thought. Enough. But it wasn’t. I should’ve just stood up, tucked my dick up under my loose shirt so no one could tell, gone and worked out, then gone home to beat off. He didn’t want me to, though. I was supposed to stay.
“I’m Joey,” he said, and then he crossed the aisle, practically lunging at me with an open hand to shake and the other–I swear–holding his sweats over his jock pouch. My eyes widened and I couldn’t help but smile. This was turning me on something bad, this incredibly amateurish combination of strutting and being an easy-going dude. While covering his cock like a woman would hide her bare tits.
My smile fell off my face as our hands clasped. I gave my name and nearly choked. I could smell him, and strongly. I wanted to throw him down and lick out those pits. Then I wondered: is he trying to hide his own hard-on? He turned and went back to his locker and I drank in the way those leg muscles moved, even in that brief, strangely clumsy, walk. I took in the ass again too, of course. Then I got a little inspired.
I said, “You’re here a lot, aren’t you?”
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As surreal as this whole, short scene had been, this was the strangest element. Because, even as I could see from the corner of my eye something like wonder in his own at what I was doing, I fell into a kind of trance. My cock literally throbbed. I didn’t care if anyone came in. All I knew was, I wanted that dirty, smelly, sweaty jockstrap. I knew at the same time that this would be the avenue to him. His residue. His ripeness. Nothing directly threatening the weird, overdone-nice-guy persona he adopted.
I made myself break my gaze and I stood. There was no way he couldn’t see how fucking hard I was. I didn’t care.
“Well, gonna hit the shower,” he said. Then he stole a fast look down at the jock, looked back up at me, and left it where it was. It didn’t stay there long. Neither did I.
Jack's new book, M4M: For an Hour, or Forever - The Gay Man's Guide to Finding Love Online is out and it looks great! Check out excerpts and more at [extern url='http://www.amazon.com/M4M-Forever-Guide-Finding-Online/dp/1416940723/sr=8-1/qid=1172579812/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/002-1055302-1892010?ie=UTF8&s=books' target='_blank' text='M4M']."
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