I've been thinking about why I write these stories, and have just now realized that one reason is to honor the men I've been with. Since these encounters have been anonymous, I have no other way to let them know how much I appreciate their kindness, their sensuality, their willingness to share themselves with me, their acceptance of me and my own sensuality.
I hope that some of these men will recognize themselves in the stories--even though I try to change one or two details (in case they don't want to be recognized!). And if any of my readers do recognize themselves, I hope that my joy in who they are, my appreciation of all that we did together, silently and anonymously, comes through in the writing. But eve if it's not you I'm writing about, and you think it could have been, I hope the same feelings come through.
All my stories are true--except for those little details--unless I state otherwise. This one is a fantasy, but based on what might have happened as the result of a certain close encounter. In fact, I had another appointment that day, so missed the opportunity that I describe below. And if its main character is reading this, I hope he understands that the story's last line is not simply decorative.
This story, however, is not dedicated to him, but to someone else--a very special man. He knows who he is.
Most of the guys at the gym are younger than I. I don't mind that--we never talk, we're polite and even nice to each other if we need to share equipment, and it's just not a big deal. You know how guys check on each other at the urinal? Well, they do that at the gym too, in terms of how much weight they're lifting, their form, number of reps, and so on. I can, well, hold my own--in both contexts. I'm in good shape, nothing to be shy about, and I enjoy my time on the floor.
I'm working out in the afternoon. The gym is sparse at that time, maybe two-three other guys in the huge weight room. A guy comes in from the locker room, looks a little older than I--that's unusual. He's well taken care of. Grey hair, buzzed, smooth legs, a short guy but well proportioned. And well toned. Not one of those older guys who's turned up at the gym after a divorce or a health crisis, wanting to loose 20 years worth of flab by jumping rope. No, this guy's taken care of himself. Retired military, maybe, or former jock who still plays. And plays.
We nod to each other over the lat machine. We avoid collision putting back the 35 lb. dumbbells. I follow his tight butt move as he works his back on the Roman chair. I don't know when he's watching, but he's certainly noticed me.
I usually push myself hard at the gym, and yesterday was no exception. I'm wrung out when I finish my lat and shoulder work. So I totter back to the locker room, take a quick shower, and melt into the sauna. Not too hot--just right. No one else is in there, so I stretch out on the upper bench, feeling my body flow into the wooden slats as I relax.
And not three minutes later, he shows up--the older guy from the gym floor. He looks in the sauna, sees me, and comes right in, without taking a shower. First cue. He doesn't wear a towel--second cue. He's not exhausted, as I am. He's perky.
I quickly sit up--I've been taking too much room lying down. I lean in the corner, my back against one wall, my shoulder against the other, one leg bent at the knee, the other stretched out on the bench. He says, "Take it easy! I've got room." I reply that it's fine, I was taking up too much room. And think to myself--now I'm facing him. Maybe there'll be a third cue. Let's see what happens.
What happens is that he puts his towel down and sits on it, slouching his naked groin slightly forward. He has this nice cock, fat and uncut, which seems to be stretched to its full length, although not hard. He cups his hands around it, then discreetly plays with it, using two fingers of his right hand. He nods to me again, and says, "This way I can look at the clock."
Yeah, look at the clock. The clock. That's right. Look at the clock. Clock, with an `l'.
I'm immediately attentive. There's my third cue. My towel is draped loosely over my midsection, and I adjust it so he can see underneath. I'm not hard, not yet aroused. I'm still recovering from my workout. But I grope myself, to encourage him. It works--his hand sneaks back to fondle his own penis. I like watching him play with himself.
The head of his penis is beginning to be visible under the foreskin, and this turns me on. He moves the skin up and down over the head. I'm cut, so I'm always intrigued by uncut equipment. Now I'm getting turned on, feel myself thickening--that feeling of being dragged away by your own cock. I know he can see it, that it's beginning to peek out from under my towel. My dick has a prominent head, and I can imagine it emerging from under the towel, although I cannot see from this angle. His eyes are riveted on the spot where my cock is growing, and mine on his. I sit up a bit, moving my towel so he can get a better view. He responds by grabbing his full cock and pumping once or twice. He still looks soft, but thick. I reach down and pump mine in return, still under the towel, but clearly visible to him from his angle. We glance at each other, exchanging eye contact for the first time. A slight smile plays across his face. I love looking at his cock. It's not long--mine is longer--but it's beautifully formed.
The foreskin is a little thick, and not exceptionally long. I can see the slit, and part of the head, now shiny and purple, peeking out of the front. And I can see the ridge of his cock head through the foreskin. Very sexy.
Just as I was about to advance the game, we hear a noise. The attendant is mopping up outside the sauna. We glance at each other, a silent admonition. Cool it! I rearrange the towel to cover whatever was exposed, and he discreetly folds his hands over his crotch. We sit there staring at the walls for two minutes that last an hour. Then the attendant finally leaves.
Immediately, we're onto each other. I whip off my towel and start jerking. In 15 seconds I'm fully hard, pointing forward between my own legs. He does the same, his cock hardening but not exactly stiffening. He has that kind of `gentle' cock--the kind that gets hard but doesn't stand up. I move over and sit nearer to him, and he slowly reaches out and grabs my dick. His touch is firm and gentle, and I crave it. I look into his eyes, and he returns my gaze. Then I reach over and grab his penis. As I had thought, it's hard, although still lying down. And it's thick, and hot to the touch. I pump him, cup his balls, enjoy the feeling of my hand on him. He has nice balls, the kind that hang down even when he's aroused. Not too big, just a nice handful. Makes me proud to be a man, glad to acknowledge another man.
He's getting me aroused. I'm dripping precum. He reaches up and fondles my chest, pinches my right nipple--the one that has a direct line to my cock. My cock gives a surge, and he glances out the door to make sure the coast is still clear. It is, and he moves down to the lower bench.
Then, in one smooth move, he leans over and takes my cock in his mouth. Wow! I'm seeing stars. His mouth is hungry for me, swallowing me down, his tongue snaking around the sensitive bottom side of my cock. My head is lodged in the entrance to his throat, and he's swallowing on it. This guy knows how to handle a man's penis.
One think I like is two-way communication in sex. I'm rolling my head, I'm breathing hard. Not moaning--don't want sounds coming out of the sauna. But I want to give him back more. I have my hands on his head, feeling his buzzed hair. I find that both sexy and intimate. But I want to be with him just a bit more. So, awkwardly, I reach down and feel the muscles of his shoulders, of his upper arms, then manage to reach his chest with my hands.
I massage his hard pecs, and discover his erect nipples. They're on the large side, and I had noticed that they were dark pink. Not exaggerated or swollen, just the size of quarters and, now, the consistency of pencil erasers. I slide the palm of my hand over his pecs, stimulating them. Then I grab each erect nipple between thumb and forefinger and lightly pinch.
He moans. I've found a way to give back to him. As he works on my cock, I work on his nipples, twisting, finding just the right touch to keep him moaning. And, ever so slightly, shuddering. This turns me on, and my cock surges, deep within his mouth.
I'm crossing the line, and I don't want to go over yet. So I gently remove my cock from his mouth. He's not sure what to do. I sort of gesture with my hands, pushing him upwards. He gets the message and stands in front of me.
Now it's my turn. His cock is still pointing down. I lift it with my hand, and reach my tongue out to explore. Lick the slit, the head still covered with foreskin. He gasps. So I take the whole cock in my mouth and suck. He's waited long enough--and so have I. I love having a guy's penis in my mouth. He's not too big, easily manageable in my mouth, the cock head just touching the back of my mouth. I slip it in and out, then hold it in, exploring with my tongue. He's pulsing, but not enough to signal an explosion.
I take his cock mostly out of my mouth. The foreskin is still covering the head. I dig my tongue in between his cock head and that foreskin, where there's room. He's clean--no taste--don't like that--and I'm enjoying this maneuvre. So is he. He sort of wiggles his midsection, uncontrolled. I work the foreskin back with my tongue, until the head is exposed in my mouth. Then I put it gently in my mouth and suck slowly. He responds with a stream of precum. His balls are tightening against his crotch. My hands are gripping his firm ass, spreading the cheeks, massaging the crack. I don't remember him taking a shower--maybe I didn't see it--but he's pretty clean, remarkably so for having just left the gym floor. Just some sauna sweat--just enough to make it more pleasurable for both of us.
Some guys who are uncut can't stand direct stimulation of their cock head. I'm watching for this, but he's OK. I increase the action of my mouth, and he squirms and leaks. Careful not to push him over the edge, I feel his ass, his back, down to his balls. My fingers are exploring his ass hole. No fancy stuff possible in the sauna, but he clearly likes the stimulation. I'm going in just a bit deeper, finding his prostate.
His cock jumps in my mouth. Fearful that it's too much, I slide the foreskin back over the head, and get the whole thing in my mouth. There. Just enough for him to relax a bit, but continue progress to the inevitable.
I've found his prostate, and I won't let go. I press it, bump it, stroke it with my finger, while his cock leaks like a faucet, twitching. Suddenly he senses that he's over the edge--he knows what he's doing--and he takes his cock out of my mouth.
My turn again. He's back on the lower bench, and he sucks my cock. Now we're old friends, me and his gifted mouth. I know just what he's going to do, and I brace myself for the surge of feeling. I'm hurtling towards that cliff, towards that point of no return. And his cock, exposed to the air, continues to twitch visibly. He's digging it as much as I am.
OK, time to shoot. I can't take any more. Timing is everything. I stand up, taking my cock out of his mouth. He stands up, too, and I turn him around--my favorite sauna position for this. I'm behind him, rubbing my cock against his ass, and push it slightly in between his legs.
Again, he knows just what to do. He opens his legs a bit, then closes them on me. I'm fucking his thighs. I feel his balls above my cock, reach around with one hand and jerk on his, with the other hand pinching his nipples. I'm gonna blow, and so is he.
Wham! My cock goes into spasm, as I shove it past his clenched thighs. The cum spurts out in front of him. He's astonished. I'm a distance shooter, and it travels a good four feet, landing on the floor near the door of the sauna.
Wham! Another blast. He's clenching his thighs in time to the spasms, a second one as strong as the first. I'm holding him against me as I cum, and suddenly feel his own cock go into spasm. He's cumming too. He's shooting, though not as far as I am. I find myself thinking that it must look strange for one guy to have two shots of cum spurting from his body. Not exactly a thought, more like a dream. Because I'm still cumming, and so is he. Four, five six shots, weaker now, the last one just a dribble, mixing with his.
And now it's over. I feel his body going limp, just as mine relaxes. I hold him against me just a bit longer, not wanting the closeness to evaporate so quickly. Hold his cock as it melts in my hand, getting less rigid, but staying thick and long. My own is trapped between his legs, and if he did the right thing, I'd be ready to go again.
But there's no time for that. This is a gym sauna, and we have to catch the time when we can. One last caress of his chest, one last squeeze of his ass against my crotch, and I withdraw from between his legs. We hug, but don't kiss, and look into each other's eyes, smiling our thanks.
Just then, a noise around the corner warns us of another visitor to the sauna. We break apart and resume our relaxed positions, as if nothing magical had happened. A third guy, then a fourth, enters the sauna. The party's over. But the memories have just begun.
I stand up and stretch. My friend is on the bottom row, at the end. I walk slowly to the door, push it and go out to the showers. But not before I brush his bare foot with mine, by way of farewell.
I hope I see him again. And maybe this time we can act this all out...