After the Gym Pt. 1 [mm] [bi] [gay]

Steam from the shower room always hit’s like a vapor. This late at night there’s rarely anyone at the gym so I don’t feel too awkward staying in and showering. The alternative is to freeze my ass off at a bus stop at -20 degrees Celsius only too stew in my own sweat on the 30 minutes bus ride home.

 

Had it been a busier night, like on the weekend, I’d have taken the journey. During the week however, to many people working square in the morning usually leave the gym by 10, and those left are those of us working afternoons or not working at all. I was the latter, hopping from casual position to casual position and trying desperately to ward off boredom by filling my off time with anything. These things included gaming, jerking off constantly, and going to the gym.

 

Now, I’m hardly what you’d call a ‘gym rat.’ My whole life I’ve been blessed with a fast metabolism and a low competitive drive, so I’d never really been one for self improvement. Standing at 6’4″ as an adult, I was fairly slim but didn’t have a lot of muscle to me. After my last break up and seeing the guy my ex girlfriend had ended up with, I decided I needed to do something to boost my self-image and confidence. Filling out my figure ought to be the thing, I thought.

 

As any self conscious person might tell you though, starting at the gym is hard enough – and staying consistent is too. You try to tell yourself everyone is there to improve themselves, but at the same time when you’re coming from a background of feeling like you’re being compared to others, it’s hard to *not* feel watched or seen by the guys or hard-body girls lifting more than you, pushing more than you, trying harder than you. It makes that consistency hard to achieve. Every evening I need to force myself to go. Which brings us back to the showers.

 

I’m one of those people that, when anxious, thinks *way* to much about what they *don’t* want to happen in a situation. I didn’t grow up on sports teams, I’m not used to sharing a shower with anybody at all. This is why on weekends I subject myself to the brutal winter temperatures the outside brings while waiting for the bus. I am, as an adult, 25 year old male, afraid of popping a chubby in the shower with other men around. I can’t think of anything more embarrassing than being around other men – total strangers – and getting hard. And it nearly always happens. I think about what I *don’t* want and it happens. Because of this, these slower weekday nights are a true God send.

 

Now, I’m not being totally 100% honest with you. I know I get hard out of anxiety, but it’s not an anxiety driven solely by not wanting to get hard. There’s an unexplored depth to it too, and it’s something I only started being honest about with myself not to long ago. The truth is, I really don’t *mind* getting too see those naked men.

 

Sure you get the guys that are older or bigger and their bodies reflect it – and good on them for being at the gym and having way more mental fortitude than I ever could. But you also get the guys with athletes bodies and the gear to boot. I try not to look, but it’s hard not to catch a passing glimpse. I know I’m weird about it. The guys I see are way more confident and relaxed about it than I am. They look wherever and make no fuss about it, while I try to look dead ahead and think about not getting hard and be wholly uncomfortable about it.

 

The thing is, I only realized I was *into* dudes about a year or two back, but never jumped on the opportunity to experience it. It perhaps started watching trans porn, something novel and alluring appears to you and you engage with it. You start to like the idea and the people and the bodies. Lately for me it was stumbling on a new kind of video while looking at otherwise regular and vanilla porno’s. They went under the search filters of *’bi confusion, bi hypno, sissy trainer,’* etc. What started out as a curiosity became an interest in being desired and wanted. I found myself browsing subreddits and looking just at cocks, peaking at gay porno’s to see if I got hard, eventually even sexting guys online. I loved to look at bigger, girthier cocks than just my uncut 6.5 inches. I’d get excited sexting two or three guys at a time, videoing myself lovingly, slowly stroking my foreskin while precum dribbled over the head. I got so worked up knowing how excited they were too – these stronger men with their thick cocks, getting hard to *me.* There was something really enticing about that, being *wanted.* I’d always video my loads afterwards, and they were always massive as I’d been jerking off and edging slowly for these guys for so long.

 

Maybe that’s why I like those *bi-confusion* and *sissy-hypno* videos. Some womans voice always telling you, “you’re a faggot” and making you want to be wanted by these stronger guys. The feelings drove me to get myself a little prostate vibrator that I’d lube up and play with while watching these videos, desiring to be desired by those thick cocks while I massages my head until I’d cum all over my chest.

 

This is all just to say that I had it *bad.* I had a desire to experiment but never acted on it, and was still to nervous to try. Being honest with myself and being around more attractive dudes made it even worse, so I always just stuck to my shower in the corner and tried to get out of that gym as fast as I could without looking at *anyone.*

 

Tonight was different though. One of the regular girls was by herself on one of the treadmills, doing one of her long runs. I was using machines working on legs and abs and my core, hoping to one day have a nicer butt. And there, doing some pretty heavy-set squats was Jeremy.

 

Now, I’d seen Jeremy a few times, even talked to him before. I’d known enough about him that I knew he and his boyfriend Michael usually came in together on weekends and usually came earlier on weekdays to account for Michael different work schedule. Both really nice guys, though I’m not sure what they did for a living. Michael was white and taller than me by a hair or two, I could judge that by looking at him. Jeremy looked to be more of a mocha-mix. Black, but a light complexion. He was about six feet tall, maintained a tight goatee and buzzed hair, and was pretty stocky, though at a glance you could tell it was all muscle. He had all the tell-tale signs of a guy who’d been working out since he was in his teens.

 

There was something else Jeremy had that made me a bit envious of Michael. Every guy I’d ever sexted sported at least 7 inches or more, and both Michael and Jeremy looked to be in that healthy range. I often wondered if they were showers or growers. I’d see Michael, cut, and what looks like a decent piece of hardware dangling there between his muscular thighs. Flaccid he looked about as long as me when I’m hard, but a bit thicker. Jeremy, on the other hand (and not to intentionally perpetuate stereotypes) looked like he just had sheer *weight* hanging from it. His cock was uncut, had a clear vein running along it’s length, and had to be over eight inches erect.

 

The first time I had caught a glimpse of the pair in the showers, I swear it had left me blushing for the next few hours. I’d rushed home and masturbated furiously and then searched around the web for a big, girthy dildo that might satisfy my fantasies though I never did end up buying one.

 

I found myself often wishing I could just stare, reach out and touch Jeremy and Michael’s cocks just for the sake of feeling them. I got hard at the notion of their meet swaying in my face expectantly, I wondered what it felt like to have something with such girth pulse in your mouth or ass hole.

 

With such fantasies in mind, color me surprised when I started up the shower and was washing when Jeremy sauntered in behind me just a minute later, stopping at the faucet just beside mine and cranking it up.

 

I had to have blushed instantly, already deep in thought about how not to get hard. I gave him a nervous little nod before looking ahead at the teal colored tiles that lined the wall.

 

“How’s it going tonight, Graham?” he opened with, sort of lathering his pects with a bar of soup.

“Oh,” I feel as though I stammered, “Not to bad – I mean as bad as legs always are.”

“I hear that.”

We showered in silence for a moment before Jeremy added, “I saw just last week you were doing squats and stuff too?”

“Trying for that bubble-butt, you know,” I joked, “honestly I don’t know if I did something wrong or not, I was only doing like, 60 or 70. Glutes still hurt, haha!”

“That’s just them shaping up, if you stick with it you’ll find you can up your weight pretty quickly. You’re ass is actually showing it alright too, you’re looking good.” Jeremy replied.

 

That did it, I tried to cooly reply with nothing more than a, ‘ah thanks for noticing man,’ but I think he could tell I was surprised – and I had to reach half mast instantly. Normally my foreskin covers the length of my cock, but with even the slightest bit of growth it’ll slide right back, which it did.

 

I looked down desperately and saw my dick start to engorge, and had to have a look of sheer embarrassment on my face as I silently tried to explain to Jeremy what was happening through a panicked shrug.

 

“Don’t even worry man, haha!” he laughed, “we all get excited, that compliment was for you.” I could see his eyes linger on mine and I found myself staring at his too – was *that* a twitch?

“I’m just not used to getting compliments,” I nervously laughed, “I’m so sorry this is so embarassing man.”

 

We had engaged, and now had literally mentioned and witnessed my half-hard dick, and looking at his had finished the job for me. My cock stood clear at 90 degree’s, swollen and ready. Jeremy just laughed and apologized while I apologized too.

“Michael’s like that too,”

“Stares at a wall and tries not to get hard all the time?” I asked, trying to quickly finish up my shower.

“Kind of,” Jeremy replied, “more so just ready to go in a moment.”

“This is honestly so embarrassing for me man.” I could feel my cock swing around as I moved.

“Don’t even trip.” Jeremy was back to washing his pects and trying to diffuse the situation. He was facing the wall and looking my way as I had stepped back out of showers spray and searched for my towel, “honestly I didn’t even know your were gay.”

“I’m not, or” I stumbled, mumbled, “like I’ve just never *tried?*”

“Never been with?”

“I only found out like not a long while ago.” I replied, “or like, that I think I enjoy it?” I was still hard but I had stopped looking for my towel and such.

“Why not just get on Grindr and pop that cherry?” he joked, “Michael and I have still met some cool guys on there.”

“I uh,” I stopped, “Still? Like, you guys…?”

“We have a pretty open relationship,” Jeremy shrugged, “he likes to watch me a lot of the time when we have a play partner over,”

 

I took a moment to gather my thoughts, “like you guys see other guys pretty regular?” still hard, if not harder now.

 

Jeremy turned and faced me. Was I getting honey dicked? He knew I was rock hard yet and casually, comfortable popped a hip while he talked to me. I could see a slight smile on his face as he knew I was trying to avoid looking right at his cock.

 

“We just like to mix it up actually, it’s just fun.”

“Mike is cool with you just bringing someone home?” I asked.

“Usually we find someone together actually, like either on Grindr or whatever.” Jeremy could see where my thoughts were going, “he likes you, y’know. He thinks you have a nice butt too.”

 

I had to think. All the times I’d tried Grindr I had chickened out, always complaining internally that I needed a ‘heat of the moment’ type encounter. If I was reading the situation correctly, one was falling right into my lap here. Jeremy smiled and continued to read me;

 

“You..want to come over?”

—–

**End of Part One**

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/7mxeh7/after_the_gym_pt_1_mm_bi_gay