Gym Stretch

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Part 12 – Gym Stretch

Well that made my life a ton more complex! Since I'd been a freshman in college, I don't think I'd used the term "make love" . . . before a half hour ago, when my need for Jack was uncontrollable, and I'd needed his cock in me, fucking me, seeding me . . . again.

"You think you just made a huge mistake, don't you?"

Jack's soft words interrupted my reflection on the doom of my situation. He tightened his arm around me, and his grip on me caused my face to rub against his perfectly furred pec I was laying on. "Sort of," I couldn't avoid admitting.

Jack just held me tight.

My mind was racing on a multitude of simultaneous tracks. Most of them were panic, fear, flight, confusion, regret. But there was this one track that was squelching any significance to the others – satisfaction.

"We're right where we should be, Mads," Jack said, still softly, but with an authority that resonated in my consciousness and strengthened that satisfaction.

I didn't DO "love". Hell, I didn't even do "dating". I was strictly cock and carry, as one of my close friends joked. I was the sexually predatory version of a quick retail sale. And he was right, of course. I'd been that way for an entire decade, having retreated to that after losing the man-boy whom I thought at the time was my one true chance at love.

Yet then, there, when my ways were deeply engrained, I'd known this man for less than a full day, I'd taken eight or ten or eleven of his loads, and I had NEEDed him to make love to me. And he did, without words of love, without gentleness, but in a passionate frenzy which matched my need to his perfectly, the way MEN made love to each other.

I tightened my own grip on Jack, my arm over his sculpted abs, my hand holding his rock hard obliques as tight as I could. Jack "Hmmmmmmmmmmmm"ed and rubbed his face against the top of my head and kissed my scalp. The background tracks in my head blurred and quieted.

After some time I realized that I hadn't even considered diverting us from this moment of intense intimacy by stroking his beautiful cock, the root of which was against my elbow, or rubbing his magnificent balls. God knew, if love was involved, I'd fallen in love with those first, probably the first moment I saw them hanging out of his gym shorts leg during that intentionally expository stretch the prior afternoon.

"I could lay here with you," Jack's deep soft voice again invaded my introspection, "For a long, long time," he continued. "I'd be very happy just like this."

"Well, not JUST like this," I snarked. "Round after round of fucking has to be part of the deal, doesn't it?"

Jack chuckled and hugged me tighter. "Even if I wanted to say that wasn't a huge part of what we have, Mads, it wouldn't be credible, would it?"

"Neither credible nor palatable," I agreed.

The last thing I remember from that moment was Jack's easy chuckle at my reply and another kiss on my scalp, along with his loud inhalation of my scent . . . just as I was inhaling his from his sweaty chest fur.

When I awoke it was over an hour later, and we were still in the same position, me on his chest, his arm around me. I was aware without seeing or feeling it in his body that Jack was awake also. I moved my head enough to see the clock on the side of my bed and saw it was nearly four. "Still interested in hitting the gym?" Jack asked.

This time it was I who chuckled. "Well, let's see. Last time you were at the gym, Mr. Torrenz, a slut picked you up and you took him home and he kept your cock occupied for the better part of the next day. I'm not sure I want to run the risk of that happening again."

Jack laughed out loud. When he settled a little he was suddenly grave in his tone and said, "I'll ignore the `slut' comment this time, Mads, but you're talking about an amazing and wonderful man who's come into my life, and I won't tolerate any further talk like that about him."

He paused, and I knew he wanted me to acknowledge what he'd said, but I knew myself and couldn't bring myself to refute my assessment. I squeezed him and kissed his hairy pec in lieu of a verbal answer.

"So," he continued, seeming satisfied at my non-verbal response, "If I have anything to say about it, I'll leave the gym this afternoon with that same wonderful man again and, if he lets me, spend the next day with him, too. OR, just skip the gym, and we'll just spend that time just us, together, too."

With a suddenness that surprised even me, I pulled up and away and was out of the bed and on my feet looking down at Jack. And oh, what a studly sight he was laying there on my bed naked, dried cum and sweat in his fur, looking so irresistible I almost just jumped him again. Before I succumbed to the urge, I turned toward my bathroom. "Shower time, stud, then we hit the gym."

I heard Jack getting up as I headed into the bathroom. "Hey got any water?" he called.

Around the corner in the fridge," I yelled. "I'll start the shower. Grab me one!"

I had the water running and was finishing taking a piss when Jack was back. When I finished and turned around, he was looking at me funny. "What?"

He handed me the water. "Um, your refrigerator . . . "

"Yeah?"

"Well, it's not exactly well-stocked, unless you consider bottled water a balanced diet."

I threw my head back and laughed. "I never claimed to be good in the kitchen," I said, and we both got in my shower.

"Oh, but you were," he smirked, facing me.

"Well, not cooking, anyway."

We both laughed and managed to keep ourselves focused on the shower and not on the temptation to let our frequent touches and kisses turn to more. Surprisingly, we accomplished that even drying each other.

"I need to get gym clothes at my place."

"You can wear some of mine, if you want," I offered.

"Uh, I don't think that'll work," Jack said with a grin and looked down.

I realized Jack was looking at my feet. My shoe size fourteen feet to be precise. "Oh, yeah."

"If we both go to my place for me to get my gym stuff, there's no way we'll get out of there without fucking."

I'd been brushing my teeth in one sink while he was doing the same, with a hotel toothbrush I'd kept from a trip and hadn't used, and he and I met eyes in the mirror. He was grinning around his toothbrush, toothpaste foam running down the corner of his mouth.

"Is that an invitation, stud?" I mugged. He just laughed.

"Well, I guess that's it," I moaned. "You've had enough of me and now my overtures are just laughable."

Jack's eyes met mine again in the mirror, his face clearly indulging me. "We'll see who's laughing when we're at the gym, and your ass is crying with your every movement!"

I couldn't argue with that. The hot water in the shower almost made me cry, and cleaning myself I just had to concentrate on the bliss of the cause and try to put the after-effect out of my thoughts.

When we were dressing, Jack suggested, "Why don't you bring some things, and we'll go to my place after the gym."

"We could do that, or we could come back here," I retorted without even realizing that I'd not even resisted the idea of us spending our time together going forward.

Jack smiled and shot a quick glance around my bedroom and to the sitting room and then, a little forced, he returned his look to my bed and grinned. "I can be VERY comfortable here, too." He waggled his eyebrows. "Whichever you prefer."

"Before we decide, let me grab a power bar. Want one?"

"Yeah," Jack said, and he headed toward the kitchenette. "Hey, where are you going?" he asked, when he realized I was going toward a door. "Oh, we're going to grab the power bar on the way?" I had my hand on the doorknob. "Hey you didn't grab your things."

I just turned around and smiled, and then I opened the door. "C'mon – let's get a power bar in the kitchen." Jack's look was confused, as I'd intended. But he followed me as I went into the hall.

We walked together, and he figured it out. "Oh, I thought –" and Jack broke off, looking around.

We emerged from the hall into an open area of my condo after having passed a couple of rooms in the hall. Jack chuckled softly, taking a look around. "My kitchen isn't anything compared to yours, by the way," I joked, rounding a corner into the large area that was my dining room and kitchen.

I went to my walk-in pantry and grabbed a few bars and then came back and put them on the counter. "Help yourself. And take a look around. I'm actually pretty proud of the place."

"It's great!"

I blushed. "Well, it's nothing like yours, but it's mine, and it's basically everything I own, because I had to put every dime I had into buying it, and it was a total wreck of a foreclosure. I did all the work myself – I couldn't have afforded it any other way.

Jack had taken a little walkabout, checking out a couple of other rooms, and he touched some woodwork and had run his hand over the limestone fireplace appreciatively. His smile of appreciation filled me with pride.

"Really nice, Mads."

I was blushing by then. I looked down, and I pushed the pile of bars toward him on the light granite island. "Grab a bar, and let's go get you some gym clothes and work out."

We walked a few blocks, and, as we were approaching the gym, which he passed on our way to Jack's building, he suggested that in order to ensure we actually did go to the gym I should go on in and he'd grab his gym clothes and come back. It really was the best idea.

Just when I'd finished a fifteen minute warm-up on the elliptical and was heading toward the workout floor, I saw Jack come in. He'd gotten into his gym clothes at home and came in that way. And he looked stunning, taking my breath away as he had the first time I saw him. Jack grinned widely when we saw me and came straight to me. He came to me, too close to be appropriate, and then he kissed me, without the slightest hesitation.

I was surprised, but I also loved the possessiveness of it – Jack just walked right to me, clamped his free arm around my waist, pulled me in and kissed me square on the mouth. I stood for a moment stunned – pleasantly so – and he hadn't moved away from me, just grinned at me. Then a thought occurred to me, and I reached down and took hold of him through his gym shorts.

"Yours," he said simply, his look having morphed from a grin to a devilish leer. "I can't wait to smell it when my sweat is mixed with yours."

My body tensed with a frisson of excitement. It was my filthy jock strap he'd appropriated from me. He'd done me one better. I'd expected he might show up freeballing again, just to tease me. Instead he went beyond.

"AND the cumload I shot in it jacking off with this jock strap in my kitchen this morning," he added, quietly.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" I exclaimed in a raspy whisper.

"THAT comes AFTER the workout!" he said, and he lasciviously licked his lips. Then he gave me a push away. "The faster we . . . " He waggled his eyebrows and headed off to the cardio room. I enjoyed his swagger as he went, but it did nothing to help ease the tightness in my jock strap.

I snapped out of it when a guy I knew from work lightly punched me in the shoulder as he was passing by and, throwing his head toward Jack, and then looking pointedly down at my tented gym shorts crotch, said, "Good job bagging that one, M – he's a hottie!"

I felt myself blush with intensity. My work mate chuckled and went on. Which is what I did . . . after I adjusted myself as best I could to not be so obvious.

I was about ten minutes away from being finished and found Jack in the free-weight area to ask how much longer he'd be. His shirt was soaked with sweat, which made my breath catch, and I moved in closer to inhale his scent, which made my head spin a little.

"That work?" I heard him saying with a laugh, and I focused on his face. He was indeed laughing . . . and I'd apparently been perving on his sweaty wet t-shirt. "I said I can be done in about ten minutes. Wanna spot me on presses?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I tried to pull myself together. "Ummmm, sure," I stammered. "I, uh, I could do some presses myself." It wasn't really on my schedule, and when I did do bench presses I usually did them on the machines, but I also really wanted to watch Jack's muscles ripple and roll as he worked them.

Jack loaded and I loaded up the barbell with weights, me following his lead, intimidated when he added the third twenty-five pounder to his side and went back for a ten. I also followed his muscular forearms' movements as his muscled rolled and his biceps flexed as he set up the weights.

When he lay down on the bench, I couldn't take my eyes off his formidable package – the mound was prominent, and I licked my lips for what lay beneath. It suddenly struck me that if he'd jacked off into my jock strap while I was still sleeping this morning, we weren't even as far as times we'd cum after all. The question was, did he owe me a load because I'd missed that one or was I owed an orgasm of my own to even the score.

"Earth to Mads."

I snapped my eyes down at Jack laying ready, arms up, hands in his workout gloves already on the bar, ready. "Sorry," I stammered, getting into position to spot him.

"Mmmmmm," he said up into the leg of my gym shorts, and I blushed and laughed like a girl. "Any time you want to apologize by putting that hot ass over my face, feel free!" he teased.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you going to lift that or just fondle the bar?" I teased him right back.

And then he did – lifted it off the rack, seemingly without effort and took it down to his chest and did eight reps before he even showed a sign of needing my help to raise it up. And even then he got through two more with me at the ready but unneeded. It had taken all my force of will to not concentrate on his muscles rippling under his shirt and his amazing furry arms as he manhandled that weight up and down, but concern for him with so much weight won out, with the visual delight staying in the background.

We adjusted the weight for the considerably lower amount I was going to lift, and I got myself positioned. And then so did Jack . . . right above my face as I was over him . . . and the urge to reach up into his gym shorts and grab that heavy package in my jock's pouch he was wearing was tough to fight back. We weren't alone in the free weight area, not by far, but he was just so inviting, and the waft of his sweat on his corded furry legs next to my head and his crotch sweat mixed with my jock funk was almost overwhelming.

"Today, Van Duessen," he said above me with mock irritation. "I'd like to get my next set in before we have a rest day in between."

I snorted and focused on my breathing and form and went through my ten with just the slightest assist from him when I was moving the bar back onto the rack. Jack had counted out my reps, unlike my silent spot of him, and he'd added encouragement for the final couple, which were almost more than I could do but not quite.

"Great job!" he said, putting his hand down and pulling me up off the bench. And then, when I was standing, he tossled my hair and gave the nape of my neck a manly caress. My entire body went warm and mushy from the touch and from the look of pride in his eyes. But just as quickly I was reminded of my own complete and utter inadequacy in the relationship department. Jack had lifted half again what I had, probably twice his body weight, and I hadn't even thought to give him encouragement, much less the recognition for what he had done. As we were re-adding weight to get it up to his level for his next set, he stopped and said, "I know you're not upset that I lifted more than you, so what is it?"

I was obviously showing my upset. It was upset with myself for letting this go on, for letting myself get in deeper than I could handle, to be required – expected! – to give more than I knew how to give. For an instant I thought it was too fast, but I wasn't going to fool myself. It was out of my wheelhouse, that's what it was. I wanted his cock, and that's all I thought about – not him, not the feat of strength even or the recognition he deserved and encouragement to achieve more, but just objectifying him and his amazing body.

"Hey, what is it?" He was on my end of the barbell now, his hand on my shoulder, and I suddenly couldn't face him, couldn't do it. "Mads?"

"I think I have to go, Jack," I said, my eyes on the floor, and I started to turn away.

"LOOK AT ME," he ordered sternly. And I did. More softly, his hand still on my shoulder but now squeezing it, "You go, I go. That's the deal here." His eyes were compassionate but also determined as he stared me down. When I started to look down, his other hand lifted my chin back, and I looked at him again. "NO clue what's going on in your handsome head, Mads, but we're still together here, out on this limb, and I'm not letting go of you."

I kind of choked. Jack just kept his hand on my shoulders, his hand from my chin had landed on the other, looking square at me. "I, uh," I started, but I couldn't even tell what I was thinking, it was all swirling so fast in my fucked-up brain. I mean, I really didn't want to go anywhere that wasn't with him, but I also knew this was going to crash and burn at some point near in the future, so . . .

"Hey, whatever's going on in there, sexy boy, WE are out here, together." He gave my shoulders a squeeze and then massaged my traps with his fingertips. His touch made my body relax, and I hadn't even realized I'd tensed up. "Better," he cooed. "How about we finish our workout?"

He was smiling up at me. He winked at me at the same time he squeezed my shoulders. And then I could move again, and I nodded my head.

It wasn't a minute before I was transfixed by his undulating muscles as he worked that barbell up and down, and every rep I counted out for him, like he had for me, and as he was nearing the end I shouted "C'MON!" and "That's IT!" and "YEAH, ONE MORE!" and the like, cheering him through a huge groan and final lift. I almost yanked his arm out of its socket when he let go of the bar in the rack at the end, and I grabbed his hand and pulled him up and into a chest bump. "FUCK YEAH!" I shouted, gathering some stares and not caring in the slightest.

"GodDAMN you're hot!" Jack said to me in a low voice, grinning. "Let's get these reset and get your next set done, so I can watch the way your balls bounce in your jock strap and your asscheeks clench when you're getting all aggressive and cheering me!"

I know I blushed from head to toe at that, the thought of him straining and lifting and keeping his eyes up my shorts setting me afire. "And then we're OUT OF HERE!" I said, practically throwing the extra plates down as I got them off the bar.

It was my condo we went back to when we left the gym because it was two blocks closer, and those two blocks might have made the difference between our freedom and a lewd public acts charge. We were that worked up. It could have been the slight squat I did on Jack's face the last set when I had to help get the barbell back on the rack and felt how heavy it really was. OK, so I'm pretty sure that's what turned us from expectant to urgent and determined.

We were all over each other as soon as we got in the elevator, and each of us banged our backs against the elevator car walls when we pulled back suddenly and forcefully from the heated clench we'd been in when the doors started to open. Gasping for breath, Jack followed me out of the elevator and headed to the back door to my condo. When I was entering the code, he stopped me as I opened the door.

"Mads, you have to be sore."

"You're damn fucking right I am after riding your monster horsecock for twenty-four hours!" I shot back with a lear and reached down and grabbed hold of his monster raging in his gym shorts. "And I intend to be a WHOLE lot sorer very soon!" I yanked him by his cock through my doorway.

We were both laughing as we tumble-stumbled through the hall, grabbing at each other as we made our way to my bed. I flung myself back on my bed and, before I stopped bouncing, had my legs in the air, yanking off my sneakers, socks, gym shorts and jock strap and flinging them about, never taking my eyes off Jack, who was frantically getting out of his gym kit.

Jack dove onto me on the bed, and I caught him and wrapped my arms and legs around him and ground myself into him as I bit his ear. "FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" he spat, and he turned his teeth on my neck and pulled up what I knew would end up to be a prominent visible mark. I hissed and clawed at his buttcheeks and clenched my legs tighter around him, my body doing its best to guide his cock back inside me.

"Hey hey hey." He pulled back. "I don't have to fuck to get off, Mads – there are plenty of other ways for us to enjoy ourselves without making you more sore, without hurting you."

I met Jack's eyes, his almost-wistful smile ALMOST distracting me. And then I caught myself, and my eyes narrowed and I demanded with utter intensity, "FUCK me NOW!" For good measure I ground myself into his raging bone.

I actually got enough purchase to get the enormous head of his gargantuan fucktool under me and ground my fuckhole into it. Jack really pulled back then and, with one hand firmly on my chest holding me down, he moved away. "STOP IT!" he commanded firmly, a very stern, maybe even angry look on his face. I was stunned, and I had no earthy idea what I'd done.

I guess my look of bewilderment was as intense as my sense of it. Jack's face softened, and he rubbed my chest gently. "Hey, what I mean is there's no way I'm going to rip you up slamming into you without lube, without preparation, particularly after you should probably already be on the injured list."

"I WANT you to fuck me!" I was more defiant then than I was ignited. In response, Jack backed up until he was a little straighter, and my heels slipped off his butt and onto the bed. His gaze remained intense, our eyes locked.

I caved on the defiance and wilted into pleading. "Please, Jack. I want you. I need you. Now, Jack, please?" Even to me I sounded pathetic begging.

Jack's big warm hand again caressed my chest. And he reached down for my foot with his other hand and brought it up, as if he was lifting my legs to give me what I wanted, but instead he kissed the arch of my foot gently. Heat flashed through me from that right foot all the way to the hair follicles on my head. He rubbed the ball of my foot with his thumb as he kissed my heel. The flames were hotter inside me. He kissed my Achilles tendon and then moved up my leg over my calf and shin to the back of my knee.

I was writhing and begging for him to fuck me, actually babbling more like it, as my desire was restoked with every flick of his lips on my skin. When Jack moved his other hand from my chest and took hold of my left foot and brought it toward his mouth, I moaned plaintively, attempting something like a renewed plea for him to DO me but it came out long and loud but not articulated.

I tried intermittently to claw at him and pull him onto me, into me. I tried to wrap my legs around him even though he had my feet in the air, bending down between my legs to lick and kiss my thighs. Even though I did manage words frequently, Jack never said anything, his sounds were of licks, smacks and appreciative moans. And then he licked my balls, and my body spasmed as hard as if I was cumming. That didn't deter Jack at all – he just kept to his agenda, and I was engulfed in waves of pleasure and craving more at the same time.

When Jack took my cock into his mouth I shouted, protesting, struggling each word. "I. CAN'T. HOLD. OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF." And Jack just sucked me DEEP into his throat, and then my body was exploding.

I could have been completely out of touch with all reality other than the wave of pleasure buffeting me for minutes – hell for hours I had no idea – but I began to feel my cock and balls being massaged, and I realized I was far too sensitive for it and threw my eyes open as I shrieked and tried to pull back and grab Jack's hands to make him stop.

Jack was smiling down at me beatifically yet lewdly, and he did stop his hands. But only for a moment. When I relaxed my grip, he again rubbed my too-sensitive head, and I bucked and yelled. "God I love this," he growled . . . and did it again.

That time I got my hand on the back of his neck as my body flew forward in a wracking spasm, and I pulled my eyes to his. "You're still going to FUCK me!" I growled right into his face.

"Oh, yes, I am," he said, his gaze almost transfixed, his warm breath in my face like a blast from a furnace that shot through me to my toes. "But not right now." Before I could shout my dissatisfaction with that, he bent down and kissed me gently, stifling my protest with his lips.

Although I tried to amp up the kiss, the kiss was throttled to gentle persistent passion by Jack, and I soon floated away into it, wrapping my arms tightly around him and clinging to him. Jack wangled his arms under me and held me as tight as I held him. It went on and on, and my body transcended our reality back to nearly the waves of pleasure breaking over and through me as when I'd cum.

When we finally broke the kiss, it was as if I was coming down from another orgasmic loss of consciousness, physical reality beyond the two of us slowly coming into focus around us. What I saw as my eyes cleared was Jack's handsome face suspended above mine, smiling – glowing actually – as he gazed at me.

His smile morphed to a devilish grin. "FOR that record, that now makes us even on the climaxes we've each had, including my stolen one with your jock strap this morning." I couldn't help but laugh. And when I started to counter with something lame about since I wasn't there it didn't count and he really NEEDED to blast one up my ass, he kissed me again before the first syllable was finished. It was every bit as good as the first, and also every bit as controlled, prolonged and transcendent.

"How about this, my oversexed stud?" His voice was low in volume and tone and oh so sexy it made me flush before I even heard his proposition. "Give me that one. Let me just enjoy the way you enjoyed us together. There's no question there will be PLENTY more."

"But—" I started.

"If that's an attempt to get me to kiss you again just to shut you up, you don't need to use that as inducement."

His grin was tinged with that glow again, the one that made me weak and calm and safe and everything was just the way it should be. I was powerless to reply.

"I'll take that as your understanding that there will be MUCH kissing in our very long future together." I tensed at that, the fear like a lightning strike through me. "Noooooo," he cooed softly, increasing his hug around me. "I've got you. WE'VE got each other," he said.

As my heart rate was returning to normal, Jack got us to where we were side-by-side on the bed, on our sides, him holding me spooned against his chest. His warm breath on my neck was calming, and his warm furry torso against my back felt like it was molded to me. "We've got each other, Mads," he whispered in my ear, his arms tight around me. "And we're right where we should be at our one-day anniversary point," he added with a gentle kiss to my neck.

I nuzzled my entire body back into him tighter even than we already were, and I kissed his muscular furry arm that was across my chest. And I relaxed into the fantasy that we were indeed exactly where we should be.

If you enjoyed yourself reading this and want to send me feedback, it's welcome: madsvand@gmail.com.

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