Erotic story: J’s Gym part 2

By Xavier Stewart Belle. Check out part one here.

I was hard driving back across parking lot back to the gym entrance, and I’d gotten harder when Aaron emerged from his car in the parking space next to mine. He hadn’t said anything, just waited in the corridor of light cast by my headlights, adjusted himself with a squeeze that may have been a prompt for me, then nodded once to the front doors to the gym.

When I climbed out of my car he looked me up and down and then stepped back to let me go first. Neither of us spoke; he’d already said everything that needed saying I just had to open the way for us.

Each step toward the gym reminded me that I’d already been fucked once that night. My ass felt velvety, relaxed, almost frictionless after the stretching Eric had given it, and my dick throbbed at the idea of Aaron slipping effortlessly inside. I resisted the urge to squeeze the front of my pants as I imagined him filling me up again while I stroked myself off.

When we got to the doors, though, my enthusiasm waned. Through the glass I could see the glow of the emergency exit sign across the lobby and its light, dim and distant, made the space between seem cavernous. I considered what would happen once I opened the door: I’d be alone in there with Aaron and no one would know it. I was in good shape, hard and lean after months of work with Eric, but Aaron had an inch or two on me and a little more bulk. I flipped slowly through the keys in my hand as I tried to calculate my odds in a fight. When I had counted the keys twice, l turned them over and moved through them again.

“Having second thoughts?”

I jumped when Aaron’s low voice sounded just above my right shoulder. I said nothing, gripping the keys tight in my fist.

“Think we’ll get caught?”

I shook my head. “No. The alarm’s off. No one will know we’re here.” I stared at my dim reflection in the door wondered why I had volunteered that information.

“Well, we’ve got nothing to worry about then, do we?” When I still didn’t move he took my right hand by the wrist, pressed my palm against the pipe in his jeans and rolled his hips forward. “You want this or not?”

My dick lurched to life again and I slid the key into the lock.

I held the door open for him as he slipped inside, then locked it quickly while I scanned the parking lot for motion. Nothing. No one had seen us. A small part of me noted that on any other night I might have counted that as a bit of luck, but I’d had too many surprises that evening to know which lucky breaks might actually be catastrophes.

I turned to find Aaron facing the dark interior of the gym. I waited for him to move, but he stood silently, thinking or waiting, so I moved to slip around him and head for the locker room.

“Hold on.” I felt his hand slip under my shirt and make a fist around the waist of my jeans. “You’ve seen me, I want to see you.”

I let him pull me backward and then bent forward obligingly when his other hand pushed between my shoulder blades. My dick twitched as I remembered the way Eric had manhandled me into this same position barely twenty minutes earlier. My heart began to beat faster.

I looked over my shoulder through the doors to the parking lot.

“We shouldn’t do it here,” I said. “Someone could see us.”

“Yeah?” His tone was casual as he pushed my shirt up around my shoulders to leave my back bare. “You feeling exposed?”

I bristled at his tone, his condescension, but kept my mouth shut. I couldn’t argue that I deserved privacy after I’d invaded his so completely.

He tugged at the waist of my jeans. “Open up.”

I hesitated just a moment, then his hand shifted on my back and the heat of his palm soaked into my skin. I undid my fly.

With a shifting tug he exposed my ass for inspection. He kept me bent forward with a hand on the middle of my back and stepped back to appraise what I had to offer.

I put my hands on my thighs to steady myself and stared at our combined shadow on the floor, a two headed silhouette cast by the lights in the parking lot. I knew that at any moment some runner might come to the door looking to work off a few dessert calories, that standing there was an unnecessarily dangerous maneuver, but Aaron didn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry and I didn’t want to rush him. Despite my trepidation, my fear of his justifiable retribution, my anxiety about being discovered, I felt my priorities shift the way they had in the shower the first time I’d glimpsed Aaron’s naked body. My concern now that he had my ass in hand wasn’t to avoid inciting him to violence. Bent over, my ass exposed and the silent gym waiting for us, I just wanted to get started.

With one hand still pressed against the bare skin of my back to hold me at an angle, Aaron ran the other hand over each cheek, pulling and stretching them so that my wet, loose hole began to wink at him. Without thinking I bent over further, pushing my hole back at him. It was an instinctual move, an effort to make myself more accessible, but as I assumed a more comfortable mounting position it finally occurred to me that maybe Aaron wouldn’t want to slide his dick into a used hole. Eric had left me open and loose, and while I ached at the idea of being fucked my a second man so soon after the first, I realized Aaron might be repulsed. As he slid a finger from the base of my spine toward my hole I considered standing up to make some excuse. Maybe we could shower first, then fuck. Maybe I could turn and get on my knees, milk him to a finish before we ever got to fucking. But the window of opportunity was just a second and a half long, and I let it pass. Aaron pressed his finger to my hole and, with virtually no effort, sank into me to the second knuckle.

“Jesus,” he muttered. He pushed in a little farther, worked his finger in little circles, testing, then pulled out. He sniff once, and my heart skipped as I realized he must be smelling his finger, a finger now coated in the load Eric had left behind. “Jesus,” he said again. “What the hell have you been up to?” There was a pause, and when I didn’t speak I felt his hand lift away from my back. “Whose is this?”

The edge in his voice made the question a command. I stepped away and turned to face him, holding my jeans up loosely around my hips. I didn’t button them, thinking vaguely that getting dressed would look like a retreat, an admission of guilt, like I had something to hide. I didn’t. I had an ass on offer, loose and ready. So I stood there with my shirt pushed up around my chest and my stomach exposed. My trunks had slipped down to reveal the short curls gathered around my dick and I shifted to stand on one hip, letting them slide a fraction lower. I looked, I hoped, like my clothes could fall off at a moment’s notice.

“Who was it?” He held his hand out between us, like he didn’t know what to do with it.

“I’d rather not say,” I said. I didn’t look at his hand.

“Why not?”

Because you know Jim, and Eric would lose his job if this got out. Because I’d lose my job. Because Eric would kill me. Because he’d never fuck me again. Because we were friends.

I shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“I want to know what I’m sticking my dick into.”

I tried to think of something to say that would turn him on instead of turning him away. I looked down at the mound in his pants, obvious even in the gloomy half light of the doorway, and decided to take a chance.

I crossed my arms over my bare chest and let my jeans slide further down my thighs. “Someone fucked a load into me. Do you want to add another one, or do you want to go home?”

Aaron stood for a moment and considered that, both eyebrows lifting in surprise. “It’s not that fucking simple,” he said.

“Could be,” I said.

He searched my face, his own settling into a frown. After a few moments his face cleared and he brought his thumb and middle finger together, slowly rubbing the slickness dry between them. He smiled. “I’ve got a hunch,” he said, letting the last word stretch and hang between us.

My stomach dropped as he took a step toward me and I felt again just how alone I was in the gym.

“But I’m going to let you keep your secret.”

Before I could wonder what he meant by that he reached up and gripped my jaw in the palm of his hand. The finger he had used to probe me curled up from under my chin and rested just beneath my mouth. Gently, firmly, he pulled my jaw down until my lips parted. As he did I caught a whiff, just faintly, of the load Eric had left inside me.

Even in the dark I could see Aaron’s gaze drift from my eyes down to my open mouth. “So, whoever it was, they weren’t enough for you?” His thumb caressed my lower lip. “You want me to finish what they started?”

My voice caught in my throat as his eyes rose to meet mine again. Across the short distance between us I could feel his entire body. It radiated heat that I could feel in my stomach like a weight. I wanted him to fuck me like that, breathing into my mouth, my face in his hand, while he filled my hole to overflowing.

“Well?” His thumb stroked my cheek.

I nodded.

“Yeah? How about right here?” With his free hand he took me by the wrist and pressed my hand to his crotch. “Take it out.”

Fumbling with both hands, I undid the button of his jeans and lowered the zipper. While he held my eyes I reached into his underwear, into the nest of hair still damp from the shower, and gripped his shaft. It filled my hand and I pulled at it gently, loosening his underwear with my other hand, until it lumbered free. I wanted to look down and admire the heavy piece in my hand, but Aaron didn’t release my chin.

Instead, turning my face gently but firmly toward the wall to my left, he put his other hand on my shoulder and propelled me forward. I put my hands against the cold paint just a few feet from the glass doors of the entrance and tried to look back over my shoulder at him. He put his lips against my ear.

“This work for you?”

I felt him press the head of his dick against my ass, pushing toward my hole.

“Right here, right where anyone could see us.” He stopped when the tip of his dick met the burning ring of muscle Eric had already opened for him. He pressed his forehead against my face just above my ear and exhaled. “What do you think?”

I arched my back just slightly, pushing my ass against him, against the hardness poised against me.

“Thought so,” he said. With a hand on each hip he pulled me backward as he leaned forward, and his dick slid into me in one quick surge.

I let out a long moan as his thighs slapped against my ass, the sudden fullness sending shockwaves reverberating around inside me. Eric had fucked me just to the brink, and despite all the intervening excitement my body still ached for release. I pushed harder back onto Aaron, the slight discomfort of my stretching hole fading quickly into an awareness that this was the second dick I’d taken that evening.

That backward push was all the encouragement Aaron needed. Without preamble he began to piston into me, pulling nearly all the way out and then slamming back in. I marveled at how readily my hole opened for him, at how well the load I’d been carrying around in me greased Aaron’s prodigious member. I wondered how far the slapping sound echoed into the gym, whether someone standing outside the door might hear it, but Aaron’s increasingly aggressive tempo pushed any other thoughts from my mind. I held my breath and whimpered, each battering thrust sending a wave of pleasure rolling around inside my ass. The soles of my feet began to tingle. I rested my head on my forearms, the constant friction and pressure on my sweet spot already pushing me close to climax.

And then it stopped.

I looked behind me. Aaron stood staring intently at my ass while he tucked himself back into his pants. He zipped up and stepped back another stride.

“Get dressed.”

I stared at him.

“Let’s go. I’d love to make you shoot against that wall, but there are other things I want to do. Button up.”

Aaron watched as I slowly turned and put myself back in order. I took my time, a petulant side of me offended that sliding into me hadn’t driven him beyond all reason and restraint. I thought that maybe if I twisted appealingly this way as I pulled my underwear up, or bent that way as I pulled my shirt down, he’d be overcome by lust and come at me again. He didn’t. When I looked presentable, buttoned and straightened, he turned and walked toward the locker room.

As I followed Aaron across the lobby, which opened on the right side into the gym’s main room, I looked at all the exercise equipment shrouded in darkness. I thought about all the people who came in to workout, ignorant of the number of times I’d gotten off in that room. Eric had fucked me on weight benches (he always insisted we put down towels), had drilled me while I hung between the hand rails of a treadmill, and together we’d found creative ways to use the weight machines to put ourselves in otherwise impossible sexual contortions. I wondered what the regulars would think if they learned that I sometimes had to cut my workouts short because the sight of them grunting over a piece of equipment Eric and I had used got me too hard to remain decent in public.

It was worse when I saw one of Eric’s clients straining and sweating through the last of their reps. Eric refused to tell me which of his clients had purchased his Stress Relief Package, leaving me to wonder which of them were thinking of him and his body while they lifted and ran, how many of them, like me, learned that jerking off before coming in was the safest way to get through a workout without drawing unwanted attention to themselves with a surprise erection. Did they watch the others as well, wondering how many of them shared in Eric’s special motivational program? Of did they think they were the only ones?

I frowned as we neared the locker room and the dark hallway next to it that lead to the weight room. I knew Eric fucked his clients, that he had started long before we stumbled into out arrangement, but I’d always assumed I was the only one who enjoyed him in the gym after hours. The silent equipment had become our playground. I didn’t always close, though, so sometimes Eric was here without me. How many others did that mean Eric had fucked on the equipment I thought he and I had broken in? How many men had he let linger in the showers, waiting for everyone else to leave so he could make them moan while he slid his long dick down their throat?

I pushed away the little surge of jealousy that bubbled up into my stomach. It didn’t matter. Eric could fuck whoever he wanted, wherever he wanted. He had demonstrated that in the locker room half an hour ago. And wasn’t I about to do the same thing?

Inside the blue tiled locker room I followed Aaron until he stopped in the middle of a row of lockers. I realized we had found his locker only when he bent to the lock and worked it open. Opening the door with a clang, he stepped back and looked at me.


I hesitated, wondering how many times Eric had issued the same order next to one of these lockers.

After a few seconds Aaron frowned. “What, shy all of a sudden?” He rolled his hand at me impatiently. “I’ve already been balls deep in you, the mystery is gone.”

I glanced at the open locker, irritated by Aaron’s attitude, angry that my own idle speculation had soured my mood.

Aaron didn’t wait for me. He started with his shoes, his manner practical, almost business like. Then he tucked his socks into his shoes and pulled his shirt over his head by the neck. He unbuttoned his jeans and let them fall to the floor, then picked them up and stood in his briefs while he folded them next to his shirt. When everything had been folded into neat squares and piled into the locker, he pushed his briefs down to his ankles, bent down to pick them up, and tossed them onto the pile.

I stared at the dick, half hard and growing larger, that had been driving into me just a minute earlier. It was thick at the base and long, longer than mine, tapering slightly to an arrow shaped head. I thought maybe it still glistened with the remnants of the load he had been churning inside me. My own dick twitched back to life and my mood cleared.

“You always eyeball dudes in the locker room?”

Abashed, I shifted my gaze to the tile floor, then realizes just how absurd the comment was.

Aaron gestured at me with both hands this time.

“Let’s go. We don’t have all night.”

I stripped down quickly and piled my clothes in a heap on the bench.

Before l could object, Aaron scooped my clothes up and heaped them on top of his own. I jumped when he slammed the locker door and spun the dial on the lock.

“Let’s go.”

Unnerved slightly by the fact that my clothes had been sequestered but appreciating the intimate jumble of our still warm clothing, of our underwear, I followed him toward the showers.

“You can use that one,” he said, pointing to the metal pole that stood in the middle of the nearest shower cube.

On a normal day I preferred to use one of the shower heads along the wall because they offered privacy from at least one angle, but I always appreciated the three shower heads sprouting from the station in the middle of each three-sided shower room. On a busy day, two or three guys might cluster around one of those poles, soaping and rinsing a foot or two away from each other. On those days I liked to grab a place along one of the walls if I could manage it. I loved to sneak peeks at these strangers, these naked men pressed so close together in public. I’d linger as long as I thought I could get away with, logging a few sights for private use later.

Aaron chose a faucet along the wall, as I might have. He tilted his head back to wet his hair, then wiped his face and fixed me with a stare.

My semi-hard dick began to fill out even more as I turned the nob on the shower stand and stepped under the spray. I watched Aaron and waited.

“You work up a sweat earlier?” Aaron asked. He tilted his face back under the spray.

After he wiped his face, I tilted my head at him and frowned, confused.

“You probably worked up sweat earlier when you were getting that ass plugged. Don’t you want to clean up?”

I tried to keep the disappointment from my face. The quick and enthusiastic fuck by the doors had convinced me he was excited about getting into a used hole, but apparently I was wrong. He wanted me scrubbed clean of whoever had gotten to me first. I reached over to the dispenser and then spread a palm full of blue soap gel into my hair. If I applied myself to this task quickly, we could get to the good part faster.

I expected Aaron to stay put until he thought I was clean enough for him, but he didn’t linger under his own shower head. After I started to lather up he began to roam. He circled me once, pulling idly at his thickening member until it stood directly out in front of him, then stopped a few feet to my left. When I leaned over to soap my lower legs he stepped forward and ran a hand over my ass. I slowed, and he pulled his hand away. When I looked up at him he had moved on, circling around behind me.

I realized then what he had in mind. It was a hunch at first, just an intuition, but the idea excited me.

A peek here and there in a public shower was to be expected, even straight guys tended to look to see how they measured up, but touching was a no go. That got you branded a queer at best, a creep at worst. A friendly elbow or a pat on the shoulder could be interpreted as an invasion, so you just didn’t do it. You wanted to, but you didn’t. Or at least I wanted to. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d had the urge put my hands on a stranger in the shower. I’d settle just for washing a back here or there, massaging cheap blue soap into the channels between ridged muscles, but what I really wanted was the freedom to admire with my hands all the hard and soft and hidden things revealed as men washed away the smell of their exertions. I wanted to run my hand down a lean stomach as the guy next to me washed his hair. I wanted to dig the tips of my fingers into the mound of glistening curls some guys refused to trim from between their legs. I wanted to grip an ass cheek and tease my middle finger into the crevice where the sweat of their workout still lingered, waiting for a furtive hand to slide through and soap it away. And I wanted these intimacies to be public and casual and of so little consequence that a man might not even look to see whose hand had reached out to do the exploring.

So I thought I knew what Aaron wanted, and I did my best to play the part.

He focused on my ass first. As I rubbed shower gel into my hair he dragged his finger tips up the back of my leg and over left ass cheek. I ignored him and leaned forward to rinse my hair. He took the opportunity to put his thumb and fore finger around the other cheek, squeezing the muscle in an full handed pinch. I flexed for him and then relaxed. He squeezed once more and then stepped away. As I wiped my face I could see him watching from the corner of my eye, one hand gripping his dick, and I interpreted his lack of further instruction as approval.

And so we pretended, until Aaron’s light touches grew more aggressive. A hand on my chest became a pinched nipple. A hand cupping my balls verged on painful. Two fingers tracing the outline of my dick became a fist that gripped and squeezed until I was achingly hard.

I did my best to ignore him. I swallowed my moans and kept my hands away from my torturously hard erection, and I wondered how he could keep pacing so calmly. He stroked himself only occasionally, but he remained at full mast as he prowled, his dick bouncing and swinging as he walked.

By the time I had shampooed my hair three times I was beginning to go light headed with need. I turned to face Aaron and arched my back to put my head under the faucet, simultaneously pointing my dick directly at him. I opened my mouth in a silent moan when his hand closed around my shaft and when he stroked it my exhalation sent water spraying over of both of us. Unable to help myself, I bucked my hips forward into his hand. He pumped it once more, but when I moaned load enough to send an echo around the shower cube he released me.

Teeth clenched in frustration, my dick throbbing, I turned my back on Aaron and let the water rinse me clean again. By this point I had been fucked and fondled and teased for the better part of an hour, and I just wanted to get off. I needed it. I deserved it.

I took one more palm full of soap from the dispenser and began working it over my thighs and up around my ass. Each time Aaron tried to circle me for a view from the back, I turned, keeping him in front. He sped up a few times and I turned with him, never making eye contact. I felt him glance up at my face, his expression unreadable. The dance would have been comical if my lust hadn’t risen to such a fever pitch that my deferred released was starting to make me angry.

When Aaron stopped near the entrance to the showers I faced him fully. With one hand planted on my inner thigh to frame my crotch, I reached back and began massaging my hole. Staring fixedly at his chest as if he weren’t there, I pushed a finger inside and let my mouth drop open. If he wanted to keep playing games, he could watch while I finger fucked myself to a finish. He could decide if he wanted to waste the thick white ropes that would spray across the tiles between us.

It didn’t take as long to break him as I thought it might. After about forty five seconds he stepped forward and swung me around with a hand on my shoulder. He pushed my elbows forward until I gripped the pole in front of me at about head height, then he applied both his hands to my ass. He used his palms to get at my hole, then used his thumbs to stretch me wide open. As water streamed down my back and over my ass, I could feel my hot, red ring winking at him.

I pushed back at him, searching vainly for his dick. Instead he shoved a finger in me all the way to the last knuckle.

“God,” I moaned. “Fuck.”

He pushed his fist against me, stirring his finger around until my legs grew weak and I thought I’d lose my grip on the pole.

“Please,” I said. “Oh my god.”

With his hand inside me and suds still dripping from my thighs, he reached around and turned the water off. When the water stopped he thrust his finger forward again and placed his other hand on the back of my neck. He pulled me up into a standing position and then leaned against my back, his finger still working, his dick burning against the side of my thigh. He pressed his lips to the back of my ear.

“You ready for that second load?”

“Please,” I said again. I reached back to grip his neck and keep him close. I wanted it then, there, in the middle of an empty public shower that had seen hundreds of naked men. I wanted it hard and fast. I wanted to feel every thrust as his body slammed against me. I wanted to be used until the fever in me broke and I erupted.

“Not here,” he said, and I almost growled my frustration. Instead I let him guide me out of the shower by the neck.

He didn’t take me far. A few dozen steps and we were back at his locker.

“Over the bench,” he said.

I straddled the long wooden seat.

“Ass up.”

I bent over to put my forearms on the bench and tried to look back at him.

“You come when I tell you too.”

I lowered my head onto my arms and said nothing. I wouldn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.

I didn’t hear him spit, but the velvety feel of his dick against my hole told me he must have. He pushed in slowly at first, but when my loose hole gave easily and swallowed the head, he leaned forward with a quick jerk and slid in all the way to the base. My grunt softened into a moan.

His pace was slower than out by the doors, but more deliberate. His thighs slapped against my ass with each downward stroke and I rocked forward on my arms.

“You want me to fill you up?” He had me by the hips now.

“God. Yes.” I closed my eyes and leaned back into him. His pace quickened.

“You want a second load in that used ass?”

I thought of Eric, the hard heat of his body pressed against my back as he fucked me. “Please,” I said. “Fuck your come into me.”

He was leaning on my lower back now, forcing me to arch my back to keep my ass in the air.

“You greedy fuck. You like the feel of my dick in your open hole?”

“Yes. Fuck me.” I was moaning with every thrust. “Use me.”

“You want it?” His thrusts grew harder.

“Yes! Please!” My moans had hardened into grunts as he slammed into me.

Without another word Aaron clamped a hand on my shoulder and pulled me backward. He sat heavily down on the bench and I came down on top of him, impaled on his dick. The force pushed my hole down to the very base of his dick, stretching me a fraction further. He held me around the waist with one arm and reach around with the other to grasp my dick. As he began to pump his fist up and down my shaft he kept thrusting up into me. I bucked my hips back and forth, fucking myself onto him while I thrust forward into his hand. I was going to get us both off whether he liked it or not not.

Before long I felt his forehead dig into my back, his regular thrusts turning into spasms. His breath came in short bursts against my spine and I could feel his dick pulsing inside me.

Afraid that if I didn’t finish before he slipped into his afterglow that I’d be robbed of what was mine, I clamped my hand around Aaron’s fist and began to pump my shaft desperately. I managed five or six jerks before I was I shuddering and curling forward, my climax tightening my abs in sharp waves. Long white ropes leapt from the end of my dick and arched past my face to land in streaks on the wooden bench.

We sat there panting for a while, Aaron still holding me around the waist while I held myself up with a hand on the bench between our legs. Aaron rested his head against my back and every time I shifted slightly his dick moved inside me. The little aftershocks made me twitch and I flexed my ass instinctively, trying to milk everything I could from him.

Finally he gently tapped me on the thigh and I leaned forward so he could slide out. I sat on the bench in his place while he stood next to me, his dick level with my chin. I watched it swing, still mostly hard, while a white bead oozed out of the head.

He followed my gaze and then wiped at the bead with a thumb. He met my eyes for a moment, his thumb hovering between us, then brought it up to his lips and sucked it clean.

I looked down at my own hand, much more thickly coated. I looked up at Aaron again and licked a thick gob into my mouth.

He smiled. “So, where do they keep the towels?”

“I can get some.” I nodded toward his locker. “How about my clothes.”

“Don’t need them yet,” he said. He reached out and grazed his thumb across my lips. “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. What’s your hurry?”

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