***** Warning: This is explicit, graphic entertainment. The following erotica involves sexual situations between CONSENTING, ADULT MALES. If you have not yet reached that legal age in your part of the world, then use your back button to leave NOW! This is NOT intended to be viewed by minors--no one under the age of 18/21, so proceeding means you are of legal age in your state or nation. OR you remain solely responsible for the consequences of your actions if you are not of legal age in your area. Also, please leave if you object to erotic ADULT MALES.
Copyright 2003. SportiveX. *****
When living in the City a number years ago, I was a member at one of the more nicer gyms/clubs. From swimming to aerobic classes, the membership had become more geared towards workouts for the successful clientele of both genders. The fees weren't that much more expensive, but it was located in a more prosperous suburb, so it was somewhat natural the more affluent gravitated towards making it part of their daily itinerary.
Within that membership, I met a guy who was as masculine as his name. Even though I was a few years younger, and (at the time) some twenty or so pounds sleeker, with dark, brown hair, everything else, though, pretty much mirrored Kevin. At about five foot-ten, he was covered with this solid, raven-blackness, equipped with a dense beard. Most of the time--on weekends, usually, he had a phenomenal two or three days worth of stubble that I wanted kissing my face...giving me severe burns, and wanted that stubble all night long rubbing between my legs. Muscularly-sexy, his military buzz cut was what first attracted me to him, oddly enough. As much as I appreciate hairy, athletic men, short hair cuts and a chiseled face are massive turn-ons. In his mid-30's, at around one-seventy or eighty, this guy's rugged good-looks dripped testosterone.
Apparently, he had just joined the gym a few days before. When I got done with my cycling that first afternoon I noticed him, I thought I was going to cum on the bike in looking across the room at him doing the circuit. I wasn't wearing a jock so my six shooter--and the subsequent wetness-- was kinda evident through my faded blue sweats. But I didn't care, even if HE noticed. It was me... reacting very naturally to this picturesque Man.
Kevin means "gentle and handsome" and in so watching him that day, at least the latter of the two meanings was right on the money! I'd hope I'd experience, eventually, the first meaning, feeling like he was interested in me, too. I just attributed that to wishful thinking, though, my gaydar had gone off on him. Ping! Ping! Yeah, but! I just never relied to heavily on my instincts when it came to a guy's sexual orientation or interest in just a blowjob.
But with him wearing those tight, white running shorts--though, I don't think he was going as commando as I was--- and that red tank top, made it evident the massive amounts of wonderfully dark, thick hair all over his body. As for his back, lats and delts--whether he had them shaved or waxed, looked to be the only beefy flesh visible that was mostly hairless. The optimum word there was 'visible.' Everything about him, even his vast quads, were covered with the same density of his pecs and abs....literally, a curly-haired, black shag. And, geez, did I want to shag him... right then and there! That tanned skin almost made those shorts glow. My spew was ready...
Without appearing too obvious in drooling over this guy---as he did some warm-ups on the circuit's butterfly machine, I noticed the immense veins poppin' even through the heavy forest of hair. Forearms like I like that look like they belong on a baseball slugger who plays second base. Undersides of his arms leading up to his biceps had a nice thickness... as I imagined the thickness of another muscle of his. But I fell in lust with the most artistically-shaped, pulsar pits. At that point, I knew his ass had to be a prize to behold, kiss, lick, finger, rim wet and ream hard!
Being the weight room was a separate, more private space around the corner from the main workout/ circuit area, it was so much easier to admire this furry stud when we were alone. After periodically ending up working out around him for a month or so, we began spotting each other's benches. That, of course, really made me hard afterwards as I got highly intoxicated from his man-musk and teasing views up the sides of his sometimes loose-fitting shorts. More times than not--lately, especially, I knew he was going commando. Definitely showed on his fully-thick cock head. And since he struck me as the type that didn't have to jack-off, he always looked like his meat was cocked, loaded and semi-hard. In other words, lock 'n' load! Here it cums!
I wished!
I still remember a couple times when he was jock-less, that we were sweating so good, that when I slipped under the bar, position my hands for the lift and begin to concentrate on the "easy weight," I would feel wetness on my forehead and (face)cheeks. In peering in the direction of the drops, I would be staring up in the right, black concave of his unrestrained, onion running shorts and his dense pubes were draining themselves. Sometimes, he would be wearing his veiny cock and lemon-shaped, hairy balls on that side, and his one-eyed monster would be leaking not only sweat, but pre-cum, and balls that were sweatin' a miniature rivulet.
At those times, I'd look towards his face---up beyond that barrel chest sticking his tank out---and he was looking down on me, his wet face with one of those nasty, evilly-fun smirks. But so many times after burning the final set, I would sit up on the edge of the bench, watching him walk around watching me feeling my hard-on pushing down against my left quad, trying to make it go down. That was a real challenge and not make it seem obvious. I think by that time, I was beginning to get tired of hiding how I was so turned on to this guy. Fuck society and their fucked up way of having to play these stupid games. I wanted this guy. End of sentence! Why can't I just come out and say that without wasting time playing the "beat around our thick bushes?"
I knew HE knew that river of pre-cum soaking through my shorts(or sweats) was for him. As smart as he was, he must of known, but he was SO cool about it. So unimpassioned, in a nice way, of course. Kevin didn't possess any type of prima-donna attitude, especially about his hot looks. He knew it, but he'd have to have seen my growth while still laid down on the bench, yet, I caught him a number of times staring at my tenting bulge as he positioned himself under the bar to lift.
By that time in our workouts, the aroma of pre-cum, sweat, testosterone and wanton man-sex was absolutely excellent, with a capital 'X'. I never asked, but he must have also noticed and it used to embarrass me to smell that-and silently delight in, when it was just us in the weight room. I did finally learn to completely enjoy not only that nose-candy, but enjoy the time with Kevin and his potency. It all became so natural. These two very hairy, muscular otters working on every muscle and sweating it out in the process, rubbing up against each other as they traded spaces on the towel-covered bench.
We not only became friendly, but buds... even ending up scheduling workouts together... and talking comfortably about almost everything between sets--from SportsCenter to politics to current events. Not to mention, slapping each other on our naked, sweaty shoulders. Through this process of developing a more deeper friendship, I even tried to sway the conversation towards sex, just to see which side of the fence he stood, but he was too sharp to enlighten me to that part of himself. Those brains--added to his brawn, were a further turn-on. He WAS very open on a general basis about talking sex--which I liked, always telling me how horny he was at that moment, and admitted that he was always horny... and that made me even more crazy with lust for Kev.
With our friendship, I, also, noticed something else. He seemed to direct the subject away from sex when our eyes would meet, and one of us went to do a set. He never talked about the ladies or a girlfriend-which should have been my cue at the time, so if his cock was pussy-dipped, he didn't indicate it. But, then again, his cock, possibly, being pussy-dipped only fueled my fire more, making my piece shift every time I looked at him lifting and fantasizing of him fucking and cumming into some chic, then sucking his cock afterwards to clean off the hot, wet juices of the horny lovers, her sitting on my dick, while he ate the cream dripping from her cunt. I don't mind saying, I did some HARD cumming two or three times when I got home, thinking and doing some rare jacking to the thoughts about being THAT close and yearning and smelling and burning to be even closer. Burning to want to blow him, but just decided to blow him off as just that hot fantasy, and if it happens, it happens. Well, I blew it off...till, maybe, six weeks later...
A humid, hot, sultry Sunday afternoon. The temp and the humidity outside had to have been both 90-95. By the time I arrived at the gym, it was 3:30 and there were just a couple vehicles in the parking lot. One vehicle was Kev's SUV. Walking in, the smooth, muscular, dark blond stud at the reception desk informed me the air conditioner was out all over the gym and that he just wanted me to know that. The lights were all on so I didn't see no air as a problem. I didn't bother telling him that's how I keep my home, even in that heat. So my snug T and jeans were pretty glued even more to my leanness from just the drive in, not using the car air, either. So the weather climate within the gym was perfect, especially considering how much I enjoy "fresh" manscent and the fresh, hard workout aromas of other men around me.
As the stud looked me up and down, he reminded me of their 6:00 closing time on Sunday, looking over his shoulder, through a small window, into the main workout area, and there wasn't one person working out. Without giving the stud a inch of public appreciation---which I think made him hornier, I took my ID card back from the cock-throb with a mouth I could have face-fucked in a New York minute, but digressed to save it for the workout.
"Take care of that bulge, you jock fucker?" in a tone that was almost a moan as he leaned on the counter. It was tempting, as hot looking as those full-lips were, I knew from reputation it would be a breath-taking blowjob, though I would turn it into fucking and lubricating that throat. Always horny for that, but did want to save that testosterone for a couple hours.
"I AM a jock fucker so when I'm done sweatin'," I breathed just as hard as I leaned closer to his lips and whispered, "I'll not bother showering and come out here, prop you on this counter, and rape both your holes."
"Fuuuuuuck!" I heard him moan-as if he was cumming in his sweats, as I walked away to the right and up the hall towards the locker room, not bothering to turn to check his reaction as I knew he was watching my ass. I'd be doing that college jock ass a favor, but I AM such a fuckin' tease, I thought. But since I aspire to higher integrity, though--and not that creepy, if he was still interested later--if a CERTAIN hotter offer didn't materialize before, I had all intentions of holding to my word to that guy, just maybe not quite on that counter top in front of the door, though. Okay, maybe, under the counter...
At that, I checked my gym bag to make sure I had my water bottle. I did. But, as I entered the locker room, though, something told me I wouldn't be needing it. I stood at the threshold of the locker room for a second listening for sounds, taking in the most hormonal aroma of a locker room. I laid my head back on my shoulders and closed my eyes and thought how wonderful that aroma was. And that "smell" had aged even better when taken into consideration with no air conditioning, air stagnation, and no circulation, every parts of men sweating even more.
As I walked over to my usual spot---which was at the end of a row of lockers on the other side from the showers and steam room, I noticed the aroma sure got my cock hard. I really didn't need poppers--or anything else mind-altering, to get me that hard and ready. But, then again, I hadn't cum or gotten laid in a couple weeks. And Kevin just made my juices churn a million times harder and faster and plentiful. At that point, I noticed a shower running. Then I looked down on the locker room bench and noticed clothes laid out. Kevin! In all the time I had known him, worked out around him, we rarely had taken a shower at the same time. For my horniness, it was safer that way, but usually his routine was-depending on the day of the week, to go back to his office or his home, I think, and take a shower. And now that I thought about it, it was interesting that on days we worked out, he'd split before the shower, usually hiding as much of his bulge as he could. So him taking a shower that day was kinda contrasting his norm, but I wasn't going to argue.
Then, my heart started racing and my cock got harder. I was about to go to another row of lockers-or even leave altogether, when the shower shut off and I sat down real quick pretending to get undress to change into some tight shorts. Without looking up, as I was afraid I'd get harder, I could hear the familiar sound of a towel being massaged over a wet, hairy body... Lucky towel.... I mean it was so quiet, you could of heard cum splatter on a hairy chest. Crap! That got me harder. As I bent over to try to make my cock go down, around the corner behind me comes Kevin.
"Shit, Dane! Didn't know anyone was here!" I had my back to him, but I could almost swear he had his towel off. Obviously, he didn't expect it to me, considering I didn't know if I could pull away over that weekend to workout, so we left it up in the air.
"Sorry, Kev," almost jokingly, putting my bag in the locker, thinking it was best not to look up.
"I thought I was still the only one here..." going to and opening his creaky locker door, which was directly across the bench from mine. I cocked my "big" head to the right just enough to confirm that--in all his male confidence, his towel was rapped around his neck. He didn't need to cover up. Fuck, I thought, why should he with a bod like that?!
"I just got here," I declared, standing to slide off my 501s, looking up into his masculine face, that dark stubble accenting perfectly his strong face. Whether it was still water from the shower or sweat re-forming, my eyes took a quick glancing tour down his neck, pecs, and abs and zeroed in the most lustful sight of wet hair. I wanted to nest in his ab hair. I rapidly looked back up his upper torso to his smiling eyes locked in on MY eyes' every movement. I just as quickly turned my head towards my locker. My heart was doing the four-forty. My cock was so hot, it was screaming "fire!" My heart slowed, though, to pounding like war drums. I was sweating, and it JUST wasn't because of no air. I could NOT believe how shy I was, considering I had just been flirting with blond stud, probably because I knew that guy's intentions and didn't have a friendship and history with him I cared about and didn't want to ruin just because I was horny. I do have higher integrity as the friendship was more important. I can always jack off for relief-or go find some bottom real quick like the blond stud, for that matter-but Kev's kind of friendship didn't come along everyday.
All the time I stood to unbutton my jeans and slide them down, I could feel him procuring me like a side of beef. Okay, yeah, I sorta liked that. This beautiful hunk of man-flesh was literally staring a hole in my head...my big head, though I could feel him searching for my small head. Geez, I thought, how I loved - already - this guy's animalistic lustfulness. He fuckin' reeked in masculinity lust! I could smell it! And as I sat back down to pull off my Nikes and jeans, I could see, out of the corner of my eye, him trying to get a glance at my bulge, which was putting on a private show at full throttle and pre-cum soaking my well-worn, great smellin' jock, having already dampen my jeans.
Granted, I still wasn't sure about his sexual orientation, but those glances of his, somewhat, was confirming my gaydar. OR he was like me, a sexual oriented individual... no labels, no pigeon-holing into one gender if we didn't want to. Okay, bi-sexual... but not totally feeling like that hormonal song from "South Pacific"..."There is Nothing Like a Dame." There actually IS something other than, but, hey, when it came to sex, a good-looking hole's a hole, a hot pussy's pussy--no matter the gender. Since he was always horny, hungry and lookin' to get laid, his confidence always gave me the feeling that if he was just into sex, period! No apologies! And when into man-sex, he just 'felt' like a top, which are the type of studs I like seeing on their knees deep-throating me or having their jock feet over my shoulders in the air above my head. Speaking of heads, I could feel my cock's mushroom move down my leg, so that building testosterone level, I think, is how I became more sure and/or more bolder.
My cock's fountain made me not even care if I made a move and he'd kicked my ass. If it destroyed our friendship, then maybe it wasn't strong enough bond to be worth forging through time, anyway. At the same time, though my heartbeat was ready to retreat, as I really liked our friendship. I liked HIM very much, not just because he was a hot stud on the outside. I lusted, okay, but if he's not into any type of sex with me then I hoped he just take my impending forwardness as a compliment and file it away under future ways to get fucked-regardless if he's a self-proclaimed top, or receive a mind-blowing blow job. A sexual release, anyway...a stress-buster...!
Then...all of sudden-like a flash, I became more comfortable being around him than I ever did in the past few months. All of sudden... the next step was pre-destined and very natural and right..and the light went on. That was great considering taking a deep breath, Kev's manly aromas were raping my nose with the most enjoyable maleness, even after his shower. I wanted to tell him that his aroma was sending me signals that he's perfectly ripe for the pickin' (and right for other things)! His body hairs giving off his testosterone like Niagara Falls in uninhibited bliss of natural body perfume, and adding to the already horniest smells one locker room could give off. With my heart pumping all the blood to the South Pole, no wonder I was feeling lightheaded... lightheaded from lust as I bent over to positioned my shoes in the bottom of the locker and folded my 501s on top of them. As I raised back and took up the tight, white T-shirt over my head, my right elbow hit something fleshy, yet firm. As I threw my shirt in on top of my jeans, I turned ever so slightly into the most wonderful two mounds of man flesh. Almost completely covered in black, curly hair, parted in the middle of this most awesome, tanned asshole. My hot tongue HAD to have it and needed to explore. It was so dark in that cunt, I was droolin', and my cock was UNbelievably hard to that point of discomfort, but it was that good kind of pain.
Kevin was bending over to wipe his legs and calves, and, very much, bumping me with his ass. He was such a fuckin' tease---geez, worse than me, thank you very much---as he knew full well by that time he had every fiber in my body wanting him. But the fucker was bending down WAY too long to wipe his lower extremities, so teasing me he knew what I'd do. As if he knew my impulses better than I knew my own. Of course, it would have really pissed me off if he was straight and teasing me like that. HIS juicy cunt was just inches from my head, dripping with sweat, water, and hair, the aroma from his balls and his hole was almost enough to make me cum. At that sight - at that point - I could NOT hold out any longer. I thought the hell with this "control" shit! I fuckin' had to have him, so I turned towards his ass cheeks and it became apparent--as the seconds ticked by, these two horny otters looked like one human hair ball connected at a piece of beefy ass.
At the first touch of the tip of my tongue to his innermost part, just inside his tight ass lips, there was this most beautiful song that vibrated through the locker room. Kev reared his (big) head back and let out the most guttural groan. I'm surprised the blond stud didn't hear and cum... and then come running, but fuck! It was the most astounding sex audible I'd heard in a long time. So deep. So manly. So hot!!! I guess if the blond had cum running, we probably would have made room for him.
"Mmmmmmmmmmmmm..." was all I heard, all I wanted to hear. As if drilling for oil, his reaction was my 'oil'...my prize...or at least one of my prizes.
At that point, I knew I had him and had made a proficient first move, finally taking matters into my own hands. But he did, too, with reaching his right hand around to the back of my head, to push my head and tongue further up his ass. As he did, I spread his cheeks further apart to get my tongue as far as I could up that bowlful of hair and sweat. In splitting Kev's hole with both my thumbs and massaging his prostate with my wet, hot tongue, I was flossing my front teeth with his long crack hair. I must have eaten him out for what felt like at least a half an hour-if not longer. I lost track of time, but it's not like anyone was disturbing us. It was rather odd no one came into the locker room, but I wasn't going to argue, really wanting this man to myself and wanting nothing to break this magical spell. So knowing me, I had no reason to quit seductively lapping up his manly tastes enjoyed so much by my tongue. Of course, his body's aroma was STILL driving my cock to strain and soak my jock with even more copious amounts of creamy pre-cum. I don't think my hormones or pre-cum ever reacted to a man in such a large volume of output before actually cumming.
I was bubbling up some pretty thick juice also tickling my craving nose which, at that moment, was taking pleasure from in-between this stud's steamy wanting hole. It was like Kev had waited way too long for this to happen. WE had waited far too long for this to cum to fruition, but with the way he grounded my head up his ass as far as my tongue would go, you'd think this was a part of life that he had to have. And, at that thought, I hoped THAT was true, as I had never experienced a more cleaner and fantastic tasting and smelling ass...wanting that feast to go on all night... wanting to satisfy this Man anyway I could, tonguing his pucker-rosebud and driving him into sexual orbit. I knew I had to do something about taking that ass as mine and fucking him every which way but loose. I'd tie him down if I had to, and rape and ream... but bottom or top, that ass would have more in it than my tongue. It was not only time to make this tight, underused asshole into a man's hole, but it was ripe and ready to breed this otter. Testosterone on testosterone. Real Man on Real Man. To make him feel like the man he is, glad he's fuckin' turned on to men, and seed him with the most snow-whitest jock batter he'd ever see and feel dripping out him. Then, for me, to enjoy his wet, sperm-filled pussy, a man's creamypie, lapping and felching, making him cum again and again, wanting me to fuck him even more and ream him even harder.
With both his hands now holding my head securely in place, forcing his ass back into my wet face, grinding me further into his crack---if that was possible, was when I heard a deep, sepulchral moan that he was cumming, without even touching himself. I was having such a passionate time in his hairy bowl of ass, that his stiff dick, and fully loaded balls, were fending for themselves for the time being. I love it when that happens, though, knowing I touched his buttons without actually touching his cock. So fuckin' HOT!!
As his body's spasms subsided, his seductive, low tone became one long moan as he turned full-frontal and his meaty, dripping cock was bouncing at my wanting lips. Like the vacuum I am, I never let that (about) seven inch tube-steak get soft. With one big suction maneuver of my throat muscles I yanked that prime cut halfway into my mouth, cleaning up the thick, creamy drops of cum off the crown of his juicy mushroom head, making it even more juicer. While he loudly moaned again in pleasure--throwing his head back again, making me even more ignitable. Wanting his cum in my mouth this time, I was determined to milk him dry a couple times in that locker room, but I think he had the same feelings about wanting, yearning and needing more from me. Through those orgasmic moans of his---being so drunk with ecstasy, did I hear him barely formulate the words about getting dressed and getting to his place. He softly pushed my face off his dripping-again cock as I licked my lips of some of his residual cum and sweat.
Never taking our eyes off each other--in record time, we were dressed, though, neither of us bothered putting on shirts. So in slinging our gym bags over our shoulders, we ran hand-in-hand out of the locker room, down the hall, pass the blond stud. I stopped at the front door and in almost a leap back to the cutie, I looked in his shocked face and assured him that I would take a rain check on that fuck. In confidently nodding to him and smiling, I ran back to Kev's up-stretched arm--turning me on, again, with that sweaty pit, to high-five me as we burst out the door.