You know the drill: The story below is a work of fiction, set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons, of continents or islands, in countries, counties, cities, towns, villages, neighborhoods, streets, cul-de-sacs, nor governmental or non-governmental areas, which the story is staged. If a sexual scene involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if guy-to-guy sex stuff makes you barf or is going to screw up your mind, you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this story, by law. Check with your local laws regarding such.
% Sexual safety matters. Remember guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection.
i Was a Teenaged CuB 01 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee
%
"Who's 'red' over there on the lat pulldown?"
West's employee at the main desk responds, as he reads off the computer screen, knowing his employer would want more than a name, "Michael Carrick, six feet tall, two hundred and thirty-two pounds," and knowing the owner of 'West's World' Gyms, "and any other stats, you have to find out yourself!" He ended with a cocky smile.
"Wiseass!" West says, walking away from the counter, the muscle-bear appears to the side of the tall machine, just in time to catch Michael lifting his arms. He licks his lips upon seeing the tufts of red pit hair. "Nice job!"
"Thanks," Michael replies, tenderly replacing the bar back in its place, using it as a fulcrum to standing.
Extending a welcoming hand, he offers, "Mark West and I know from your sheet," the one on the clipboard he holds, though doesn't need to use as reference, "you're Michael Carrick.... welcome to West World Gymnastics."
"Thanks," Michael replies and then what he would kick himself in the ass for later, "Do you work out?"
Michael got some pulsing between his legs when Mark lifts his shirt, revealing his hairy six pack, "Does this answer your question?"
The spoken question, yes, but in silence Michael was hoping for a 'yes' to his mental question, 'Can I feel it?' But instead he kept it cool, "Really nice abs, Mr. West."
"Around the gym, it's Mark."
"Great," Michael replies.
"So, do you like to be called Mike? Michael?"
He hadn't a clue West was trying to stretch the questioning so he could keep checking out Michael's facade.
Preceding his answer with a giggle, Michael replies, "I've been called a lot of things, but I prefer Michael, if that's okay?"
"Hey, you're the paying customer. Whatever you want, goes!"
Michael wished he could hold Mr. West.... Mark, to his word, but he knew when somebody mentioned things, it was more cliched than real. But he did leave room for skepticism with, "I think the song is, 'Anything Goes'?"
Of course Mark wanted to followup with something like, 'What did you have in mind?', but two things put a halt to that nonsense, one, his being eleven years older than Michael, the other, he didn't think it appropriate when first meeting the guy. Sure, there were many a time he was out with friends, drinking and it was food for joking with another gay dude, but right now Mark had the feeling this young college guy was straight and if it were the case, already Mark was thinking what a damn shame!
"Gershwin, right?" Mark says of the named tune.
"Who?" Michael asks back.
"Gershwin. He wrote 'Anything Goes'?"
"Oh I don't know. I just know my dad used to hum the song." Then with anxiety in his voice, Michael says, "Doesn't matter anyway."
Like a pleasant family recognition gone bad, Mark asks, hanging on the lat pulldown support, "I didn't mean to intrude on your private life."
Normally Michael would not give up his whole family history to anyone, let alone a stranger, but he didn't feel this way with Mark. Probably too, it was getting to him, the hairy arms, outline of chest hair protruding beyond the dip in Mark's tee shirt, the hair clinging to his chops, outlining his beautiful jawbone.... He had to back up in his thoughts, was he thinking, 'beautiful'? Regardless, he didn't dare check out anything lower than hip level, a true sign of checking someone out.
"You're not, really, you're not," Michael replies, yearning to share more if it kept the conversation going!
Being Mark didn't want to push things to the point of beyond repair, he decides, "Well I better leave you to your workout."
Sure, Michael wanted to finish working out, but he didn't want the conversation to end, but he had thought maybe he was keeping Mark from his work, "Thanks." And as Mark turned, Michael blurts out, "Say, do you have any personal training here?" He doesn't know where that came from, especially since he knew his aunt and uncle were already paying for his college expenses, his uncle going ballistic over his aunt allowing him to sign up to go to the gym. There was no way Michael could afford a personal trainer!
"Sure we do, if you'll see Gregg at the desk?"
"Thanks," Michael replies.
Mark going along on task, had a throbbing between his legs, hoping the 'cub' wouldn't ask anything else, because if he had to face the redhead one more time, it could get wet and messy!
Onto another piece of equipment, he could have sworn the desk-dude was staring at him. Not getting a definitive feeling over Mark, Michael's sensors were swearing to it, the receptionist surely 'was'. Not really good at this, Michael figured, ordering 'something' was a good lead in, "How much are the protein shakes, Gregg?"
"Five bucks, but if you want..." Gregg goes on to add different stuff to the shake, like a banana or 'super-size-u-up' muscle builder, a slew of powders, each adding a buck onto the preliminary drink.
Finally, Michael states, "Nine bucks, from a five dollar shake? I can't even afford five!" Realizing what he's said, he asks, "Um, do they sell half-a-shakes?"
Wise towards shifty customers, those ordering shakes and thinking he'll get too busy to 'remember' to ring them up, Gregg drops the attitude, knowing this kid isn't giving him a snowjob, "Well it just happens we have a 'first time' offer this week."
"First time offer?" Michael replies, studying Gregg's handsome face while he has the advantage.
Keeping upbeat, Gregg replies, "Yeah. You signed up today?"
"Right," Michael acknowledges.
"So you get ten days of free shakes."
Michael inquires with astonishment, "Ten? I thought there's seven days in the week?"
"Trial membership is ten days."
But they are both whacked out of their gourds, well not so much Gregg, when Mark walks by, slaps the counter like something is on the auction block and says, "Give him the six month trial membership!" and walks on down the hall.
"Six months? But my aunt was supposed to pay after 'this week'!"
Gregg giggles, "Hey, don't argue with the boss. Besides, he's got so many gyms, six months free is a drop in the bucket!"
"He's got more than one?"
"Sure," Gregg says nonchalantly as he conjures up a shake for Michael, adding to the container whatever he feels is good for a growing eighteen year old.
"Mr. West is a nice guy," Michael says, even though his attention is on the blank hallway instead of service at the bar.
Then out of the blue, Michael's attention is drawn back to Gregg as he says, pouring the blender into a glass, "He thinks you're nice too!"
"Huh?" Michael asks, thinking Gregg's answer has hidden meaning.
Already having his dibbs on which way Michael bends, he says, "Let's put our cards out on the table, shall we?"
"Huh? Cards? What cards?"
Saying it like it is, the thirty-eight year old counter-dude says after dumping out the protein shake, "Let's face it. I'm gay, you're gay, Mark's gay and I think if I had a chance I'd go for it, but I think you're more into Mark, maybe more than he is into you, though I could be wrong."
It was a lot for Michael to swallow - not the shake - but first and foremost, Michael questions, "How do you know I'm gay?"
"You're not?" Gregg replies, not with uncertainty, but rather with an interrogating accent, bent on getting the truth out in the open.
"Uh yeah... I am... you?"
"Silly!" Gregg replies.
Michael figured it meant he was. Besides, why would Gregg come out and say something and not be. "You know for a fact Mr. West is gay?" And then with reservations about how he knows, "Like you and him have... gotten it on?"
Leaning in, losing his composure a bit, Gregg answers indirectly, "I'd like to get it on with you... suck on those teen nips, work my way down to that chunk between your legs...." and then like he said nothing, "Nah, Mark and I are professionals. We don't mix work and play, however....."
When silence prevailed, Michael thought it his turn, "I guess I should take it as a compliment having a muscled guy like you wanting to take care of a guy like me?"
"Hell, that gut'll go away in no time if you get your butt in here everyday to work out!"
"Oh, so then you meant you wanted to lick me," Michael wasn't sure how to say it, improvising, his finger moving from mid-chest to where Gregg couldn't see over the counter, "from here down, 'after' I lose some weight?"
Having his own little fetish, sure Gregg loved having sex with muscle dudes, but falling within that small ten percent, his mouth could water for, "Got an innie or outie?"
"Huh?"
"Your bellyhole."
"My bellyhole?" Michael questions.
"Yeah, the hole you're born with in the middle to lower part of your stomach?" Gregg furthering, "Is it deep or shallow?"
"I don't know," Michael says, giggling.
His head swiveling left and right, Gregg says, almost like an order, "Lift your top up."
"My top?"
"Yeah. Hike your shirt up so I can see your stomach," Gregg replies.
Doing what Gregg did, Michael looks about. The gym being mostly empty, except for some groaning jocks way in the back, he slowly raises his tee shirt up, showing a slight mound, a shag of red hair streaming down his stomach, swirling around near his belt line.
"Fuckin' shit! That's so damn beautiful!" Gregg exclaims. "Like how deep does it go?"
"How deep does what go?"
"Your bellyhole?" Gregg asks.
Pulling in his red-haired stomach a little, Michael replies, "Like, I dunno!"
"Looks deep, Mind if I?" Gregg says.
Michael wasn't sure, but up until now, all this bellyhole stuff was kind of weird, so accepted, "Okay."
Reaching over the counter, Gregg sticks his index finger into Michael's bellyhole, saying, "Oh yeah. Very nice and deep."
It felt kind of awesome to Michael, but more attention was given to Gregg running his finger under his nose, smelling it as if a Cuban cigar.
"Oh yeah. Very nice and pungy after working out."
Weird, yeah, but when Gregg puts it in his mouth, tasting the finger which he rubbed the sweaty, pungent juices out of his navel, "Ugh! You like that?"
"Um, borderline with a hot ass."
Michael wasn't about to go 'there', saying, "I can't believe you are liking it like... like... like some kind of food!"
"Tastes awesome, but what I'd like to meet you at a bar some night and take some shots from it!"
"What?" Michael asks with deep thought to what the fuck Gregg is talking about?
Skipping over sipping shots of whiskey from Michael's bellyhole, Gregg asks, "You ever have a tongue probe deep into your bellyhole?"
Thinking it too weird, all this talk about his bellyhole, Michael flattens his tee shirt down over his belly, saying, "I think I better get back to my workout."
"But you didn't have your shake?"
"You drink it!" But after saying it, Michael saw the look on Gregg's face. Now, each knowning each was gay, it seemed to mean something. Living a sheltered life, he hadn't know too many gay guys and right now he was talking to the only guy he could talk freely with about the subject. "Okay. I'll drink it."
Feeling the outside of the cup, Gregg says, "It's warm. I'll make another for you."
It didn't matter, but if it mattered to Gregg, Michael allowed him to do it. But to sway all this talk away from his 'bellyhole', which now seemed to intrigue even himself, Michael asks, "So, Mr. West, does he know you're gay?"
Gregg held his finger up, signifying '1 minute', while the shake whirred. Pouring it into a fresh glass, he says, "We've known about each other since the gym opened, almost eleven years ago."
This time Gregg listened until provoked by Michael's questioning, "Okay, so I was going to ask, but you already said something about being 'professional'?"
But a smile on Gregg's face told another story, him saying, "Uh yeah, we have a professional relationship and it started right after my interview."
Joking, Michael asks, "Did you take a shot from his bellyhole?"
Gregg thought back to that day eleven years ago, when, "Mark was eighteen and in his first year of college. His uncle owned the gym back then and Mark would come in after classes and do all the shit jobs." He giggles, "Now I do all the shit jobs!" More laughter and Gregg continues, "People come and go and his uncle was looking for a muscular guy who could be responsible enough to open and close the place."
Feeling he could redeem himself nicely, Michael replies, "Did he find one?"
Giving Michael a look, Gregg tapped his middle finger on the counter, a look portraying, 'What do you think?'
Seeing it, Michael smiles, then countinues, "You worked from opening to closing?"
Jovially Gregg puts it, "Hey, what better way to work off college loans!"
"You went to college and you're still working here day and night?"
"Nah. Not now. I'm only here to open. Soon I'll be leaving to go to my 'real' job over at the restaurant. I'm working to open my own someday," Gregg says with pride.
"Cool." And then joking, "You going to serve bellyhole shots?"
Gregg laughs, then says, "Seriously, if you're ever wondering what it's like, I'll do you!"
Michael replies, "Is this something like you really like to do?"
Figuring Michael was getting at something here, he replies, "I like it, but I'd much rather have some hot guy on his knees making love to my cock and balls!"
So wrapped up in their conversation, they didn't notice one of the 'grunters' from way in the back of the gym report for shake, "What was that Gregg?"
At first Michael didn't get it when Gregg replies to the muscle-dude, "Need for me to whip you up a hot protein shake, Neil?"
The one called 'Neil' glances over to Michael.
Gregg says of the insecurity of the matter, "By the way Neil, Michael here has a nice deep one to take some shots!"
Michael's jaw dropped open, thinking of Gregg saying the unthinkable.
"Oh really?" Neil says, turning to Michael with a big grin. "I love taking care of a cub's hot, deep bellyhole!"
Strange, Michael could almost feel something like hands, but eyes, pulling up his tee shirt, revealing his hairy belly.
As if he was getting Michael into trouble, Gregg bails him out, "But forget it Neil." Thumbing his thumb down the hallway, "Michael here is hooking up with Mark."
'What!' Michael thought, but didn't say his mind, but gave Gregg the evil stare.
Seeing himself 'in trouble', Gregg says, "See ya later.... maybe... Neil?"
Neil responds, "Eleven okay?"
Gregg okays it, Neil gravitating towards the locker room.
Scratching the back of his head, Gregg says, "I guess I've got myself into trouble again, huh?"
At first he was kind of pissed, but warming up to Gregg, Michael thought him too cute to be mad at, but wasn't leaving it unsaid, "Why did you tell Neil I was hooking up with Mr. West?"
Rather than go through a long tirade, "Do you want it the way it is or do you two want to kick it around by chance meeting each other here and there and...."
"What are you talking about Gregg? Just say what you mean and mean what you say?"
He had to backtrack what he just heard, "Mean what I say... say what I... oh okay... here goes... When Mark walked in this morning.. oh damn! Forget all that crap. Why dont' you just make it simpler, walk down the hall to the door on the right, open it, walk over to him, grab him and kiss the living daylights out of him!"
"What?"
Gregg ponders with caution, "You did want to kiss him?"
"No," Michael replies with sincerity, but then slowly smiles, saying, "but I did want to reach up under his shirt and feel up all that hair!"
"There's your chance," Gregg replies.
Michael was unsure about all of this. Why wasn't he waiting until things normally progressed? Whatever happened to slow courtships, waiting until out on a date with a guy and things moving the direction of getting bedded? He wasn't sure why he was doing it, allowing Gregg to put the pressure on things, but then he rationalized maybe Gregg knew something he didn't! First step was getting off the stool. "Thanks for the shake, Gregg!"
"Next?" Gregg replies.
"Oh, about what you said to Neil about me and Mark?"
"Oh yeah, sorry," Gregg said. Then he grins, seeing Michael make a big deal of tapping his middle finger on the counter. "Will you get in there!"
Halfway down the hallway, Gregg ushered him, Michael asking, "What do I say?"
Gregg comes up with the brilliant idea, "Tell him you're wondering if he's hiring."
"You're hiring?" he asks Gregg.
"We're always hiring," Gregg lies, knowing there are no jobs right now at his branch.
Michael rationalizes, "I suppose it would be nice to have a job to help me through the first semester."
"Sure it would," Gregg replies, "and don't be afraid to come right out and ask. Mark's that kind of a person, 'expecting' a person to be assertive."
"Assertive. Okay, if you say so."
Positioning Michael right in the front of the door, it's Gregg's fist offering the assist to knock. "There ya go. You're on your own now!"
"Thanks," Michael says.
Last words, Gregg leaves it with a 'cheer' of support, "You want something, go for it!"
Directly following, Mark's bellowing voice can be heard, "C'mon in?"
By the way the greeting came, Michael knew he was unexpected, saying as he showed his face, "It's me, Michael Carrick."
Normally, Mark would look up from his desk, analyse whether it warranted unparking his ass, but as soon as sight and sound kicked in, he got up, circled the desk, his welcoming hand extended, "Michael, how's it going?"
"Good."
"Need help with a machine? A spotter?"
"No. I'm doing okay on my own."
"How'd you like Gregg's shake?"
"Everything is great, I was just wondering..." Since they weren't in the wide open space of the public, Michael took more liberty of checking Mark out.
Noticing the scan, Mark asks, "You maybe wanted to compare abs?" He rolls his shirt up again.
He knew Mark was gay, but he assumes Mark doesn't know he is, so intentionally hints, "Higher?"
"How's this?" Mark asks, pulling the shirt off overhead.
Showing no remorse for his actions, Michael says, "Damn you're beautiful!"
Phishing for information, Mark says, "I'm assuming you meant my taut abs and tight packs?"
No, Michael meant more, but replies, "Yeah."
Maybe it took awhile for Michael to catch on about him, but Mark had Michael pegged since first laying eyes on him. Walking around the teen, he presses his hand against the door to close it. Reappearing in front of Michael he asks, "And how about yourself?"
Holding his tee shirt down to his tummy, Michael replies, "Um, like I'm nothing like you."
The roundness of his stomach could be enough indication, Mark prying, "If you're shy about showing it's okay, but maybe I could give you more an assessment on how you can work off that gut?"
He might be new to the game, but Michael liked the style of Mark's approach. Too, there stood his future boss, right in front of him, sporting the hottest, hairy chest and stomach he's ever witnessed up close and it was making him horny enough to proceed, saying, "Really, I think what you said is a bunch of bullshit..." he waited for reaction.
"What tha?" Mark was totally bonked.
"But I would feel it an honor," Michael unveils his chest, stomach, back, "to have you assess my bod!"
"Damn!" Michael said, standing there and looking over the finely covered pecs, pink nips adorning each one.
Remembering Gregg's last words, 'want it - got for it', Michael reaches out with both hands and feels up the sides of Mark's rib cage.
"What-tha-fu...."
"Oh! It's not okay?" Michael leaves his hands close enough to feel particles of hair. "I thought maybe I can feel up your sixpack and see what I have to look forward to?"
His arms normally hung out to his sides, Mark smiling as he presses them close to his bod, capturing Michael's hands, forcing them up against himself as he reveals, "You would really need to inspect my six pack very closely. Say?"
"What?"
Up until now Mark hadn't touched the teen, but now he was ready to play his trump card, "I'd like to see how tough your pecs are?"
He had only gotten to first base with Mark. On the other hand, as soon as Mark's hands touched his pecs, he moaned at the feel of the pair, grazing over the bristles of his chest. He looks down on himself, saying, "That's the first time anybody's ever touched me there," too, he lost interest in Mark's bod for now, looking down on his own.
"Really?" Mark asks, other intentions on his mind. "Tell me then, has anyone done this?"
"Oh shit!" Michael exclaimed when Mark cocked his head began to tenderize Michael's left nip. "Oh man that feels so-o-o awesome!" Such a turn on it was, Michael didn't even feel Mark's hand begin to slide down his thigh.
"I'd say so!"
"Oh-h-h-h!" Michael gasped, pulling away, withdrawing his nip from Mark's attention.
Too, a hand caressing Michael's balls, through his gym shorts, gave him quite the shock!
%
Copyright 2010 T. Chase McPhee
`i Was a Teenaged CuB' may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author.
The more you stretch, the more you can fit in... 'spread' happiness! TCMcP.....