Gym Buddies, Part 1

Here's something new. More Teaching My Son a Lesson later this week.

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Gym Buddies, Part 1
C. Charlie - cosmic709@yahoo.com
cceroticstories.blogspot.com
charliessmut.tumblr.com
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I'm pretty sure that I fell in love with Dylan and Jordan  the first time I met them. I was new to town and worked out at a small, local gym. It lacked the  amenities of the big corporate gyms, but the clientele was a good mix of guys and everyone was friendly.  At 28 years old, I no longer loved working out with guys who were ten years younger than me and twice as strong, and most afternoons, I found myself lifting with retirees, cops, and firefighters.

Dylan and Jordan were neither. Both were in their early twenties and students at the local university. While it cost them more to work out off campus, our gym wasn't nearly as crowded . There were a few other guys around the same age, but they definitely not the norm.

From the moment I first started working out with them, I used every opportunity I could find to check them out. They were both beautiful men.  Dylan was huge, around six foot two or three with a thick chest, narrow waist, and huge legs. His face was clean shaven and he wore a ball-cap almost all of the time. He liked to wear sleeveless shirts that showed off his arms and chest, both of which were tanned a light golden brown. Jordan was around 5'11", but looked tiny next to Dylan. He had longish light brown hair that he carefully styled. In between sets he played with it, messing it up a little while he looked at himself in the mirror. He had a smaller frame that was bulky with muscles. He was built like a superhero, balanced but with a lot of mass on top and not much below.

I was kind of lecherous when these guys were around. Young, built, and seemingly straight they were both out of my league. That didn't stop me from gazing at them and replenishing my spank bank with images of their bodies. Everyday, religiously, they worked out together, and I quickly shifted my schedule to match theirs. If they had noticed me staring, they didn't seem to care, and after a week, we were nodding at each other when we passed in the locker room.

I was in the squat rack the first time Dylan and Jordan approached me. The guys wanted to work in. Any inconvenience this caused me was totally worth it: I'm a total ass man, and these guys had really nice backsides when they weren't flexing. In the rack I would finally get to see those mounds of muscle at their best.

I checked my pride as I watched Dylan add almost a hundred pounds to the bar. He took the weight low, and I stared as his huge butt bulged in his shorts. I wanted to get down on my knees to see if I could catch a glimpse of his balls between his legs, to pull down his shorts and fuck him stupid. Nothing better destroying a muscle dude's ass. Big fucking jocks like Dylan made the perfect bottoms. I loved listening to a big guy groan as I smashed his face into a pillow.

Jordan pulled about twenty pounds off the bar and then slipped under it. He adjusted his hair in the mirror. If he wasn't so beautiful it would have turned me off. He squatted down and his ass opened up. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the guy and his butt was two flat mounds of muscle with a deep crevice between the cheeks.

I was standing there with my mouth open watching Jordan squat when Dylan snuck up behind me.

"I wish my ass looked like that. I'd have to drop like twenty pounds though."

"I know, right." I said back, "I'd have to gain about twenty pounds of muscle to get close to anything like that."

I must have blushed because Dylan slapped my ass as he pushed me back into the rack. "C'mon, you're kind of jacked," he said. The complement made me blush even brighter, and I was feeling confidant as I got under the bar. Then Dylan added, "For an old dude."

I powered through my set and turned back toward him. "How old do you think I am?"

"Forty." Jordan said as Dylan walked into the rack.

I was trying to think of a comeback when Dylan grunted, "He's fucking with you dude. We know you're not forty."

"Late twenties or early thirties," Jordan guess, "Which is pretty old by the way."

I shrugged and looked at both of them. Jordan had a youthful face and didn't look over twenty-one. Dylan was the kind of guy whose age was impossible to guess. He looked around 25 but could have been anywhere between twenty and thirty.

When I finished my third set I said goodbye and walked away. Over the next week, we occasionally lifted together, and on the following Friday afternoon, they asked me if I wanted to grab a beer after our workout. I was nervous about hanging out with two guys who played a major role in most of my jerk off sessions, but my dick overpowered my brain.

There was a ball game playing on the screen above the bar, which helped keep the conversation going. The guys were cool and relaxed around me. At one point Dylan asked me if I had a girlfriend and when I said no, he just laughed and said that didn't surprise him. When I looked perplexed Jordan grinned, "You sort of stare at us sometimes, dude. I mean, I don't care. I work out so people will stare at me. But you're a little obvious."

I blushed, but Dylan jumped in. "This bastard walks around half-naked all day long, flexing and showing off. Pretty guys like him love to show it off and then whine about people gawking."

"This fucker drools over me constantly." Jordan said pointing at Dylan. I looked over at him, still trying to figure out if they were winding me up or if Dylan was gay. "He hangs around outside the bathroom so he can get a look at my dick after I shower."

"Wanna know a secret?" Dylan said to me, “Jordan's dick is his least impressive body part. Mine, on the other hand, is awesome. You know what they say about a guy who's six foot three, with huge hands and feet, huge shoulders, a huge chest, and huge legs?"

"What do they say?" I said with a grin.

"They say, 'That guy has got a huge cock.'"

Jordan rolled his eyes. "I've seen it. It's not impressive."

"How many dicks have you seen? Like yours and mine. I've seen a ton and mine is massive."

"My cock is the only one you've seen all year." Jordan shot back. Then he looked at me, "Dylan's been unlucky in love lately."

I was a little surprised. Gay or straight I figured Dylan would have no problem getting laid. He wasn't smoking hot or anything, but he was in great shape and he had a decent face. Almost all of the guys I knew would have sawed off their arm to go home with him. If he wasn’t getting any, it was because he wasn't trying.

"What about you?" Dylan asked, "Getting laid lately?"

"I do ok." I said, blushing as I said it.

Jordan howled and then pulled himself toward the table. "That means you're not getting any either."

"This from the guy who was jacking off in the living room when I got home from class this morning." Dylan said before I could respond.

We went back to talking about working out and sports. I kept eyeing Dylan. He didn't seem gay; my gaydar would never have picked up on him. Even after I knew, it didn't seem true. His mannerisms, the way he talked, the way he dressed, it all screamed straight. Not that gay guys all act the same, but I can usually pick up on something. I thought back to the slap on the ass he gave me the day we met, even that had seemed completely innocent.

The next week at the gym, the three of us were friendlier, but worked out independently of one another. We talked a little when were lifting next to each other or if one of us wanted to cut in, but after a few days I figured the beer was a one-time deal. I was surprised when they invited me to their apartment to watch a football game that Saturday.

Dylan had noticed the hat I always wore when I was at the gym. My alma mater wasn't popular on the West coast, but he and Jordan said they wanted to watch the game. They gave me a time and told me where they lived.

I wasn't as nervous about hanging out with them this time, but I admit I obsessed about what to wear. I wanted to look young, but not so young that I'd look like an idiot. There is nothing less attractive than a guy in his late twenties pretending like he is eighteen. I settled on a decent pair of jeans and one of my old college t-shirts. Pretty casual and unoffensive, I thought.

The guys lived in a nondescript line of townhouses near the university. I banged on the door and Dylan yelled out and called me in. I walked into the main room. About ten guys were huddled around the TV. There was a Pac-12 game playing. I looked at Dylan and raised an eyebrow.

"Dudes are watching the USC game down here. We can go up to my room. I have a huge fucking TV, man. Fills the whole fucking wall."

It was eleven a clock in the morning and Dylan was already half drunk. I could smell the beer on his breath. He lead me up the stairs and opened the door to his bedroom.

Jordan was sprawled out on a couch, wearing gym shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt. His hair, normally sort of spiky, was flat against his head. He'd gotten out of the shower recently and his skin was still red. Dylan's bed was against one wall and on the other wall he had one of the biggest TV's I'd ever seen. It filled most of the wall, just like Dylan had promised, and pre-game banter was playing loudly. On the table in front of the ratty couch there was a twelve pack of Coor's Light, already torn open, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Dylan tossed me a beer and then collapsed into the couch. He left a gap for me in the middle between him and Jordan. I sat down between them and felt my body lean toward Dylan. His massive weight depressed one whole side of the couch and pulled me into him.

The first quarter passed quickly. After each scoring play, Dylan and Jordan did a shot of JD. Neither of them asked if I was drinking, and when Dylan poured me the first shot I tossed it back with them. I hadn't come to the house intending to get drunk, and I realized as soon as the first shot was in my stomach that I should have known these guys would be drinking faster than I was now used to.

The second quarter passed even more quickly, and the whiskey hit me pretty hard. It was early in the morning, and I didn't drink hard alcohol regularly. While I can hold my own, even with younger guys, slamming four shots in the space of an hour had my head spinning. When Dylan decided to end the quarter with a celebratory shot, I told him I had to pass. He smirked at me before downing both his own shot and the one he'd poured for me.

Jordan patted me on the back. "I've lived with this guy for three years and you know what I've learned? Only an idiot tries to match him drink for drink. He's a giant. It's not a fair fight."

"You know what I've learned? Jordan is a lightweight." Dylan said, "And he's a sloppy drunk. And he gets handsy."

"What the fuck?" Jordan said from my left side.

Dylan turned to me, ignoring Jordan. "Seriously, when he gets drunk the dude is all over me. He thinks just because I like dudes I'll suck his dick whenever he wants it."

Drinking doesn't usually make me horny, but drinking with these two guys was turning me on. As the conversation took this latest turn, my dick started to get uncomfortable in my jeans. The worst was that Dylan knew what he was doing. He wanted to make me uncomfortable by steering the conversation toward sex. It was absolutely obvious that he was doing it on purpose.

Dylan kept talking, "I mean little guys like Jordan are hot and everything, but he's my roommate. It would get weird."

I nodded. Jordan got off the couch, "Stop calling me little, dude. I'm not little at all. I'm bigger than like every guy in this house but you."

"He's also an angry drunk." Dylan said to me. Then he stood up next to Jordan, stretching out his chest and squaring off his shoulders. "And you are little. Look at you. I could pick you up and toss you down the stairs if I wanted to."

Jordan looked at me. "See what I put up with?"

I wasn't listening. Apparently I wasn't the only one with a semi-hard dick. Dylan was wearing gym shorts and his cock was clearly visible. The bulge in between his legs looked huge, and I could make out the line around the glans. Jordan's lump was also visible, but not with the kind of detail on display between Dylan's legs.

I nodded again and Jordan said he had to go to the bathroom. As soon as he left, Dylan pawed his crotch and said, "Like what you see, dude?"

"Uh . . ." I stuttered.

"Look man. I'm just as gay as you. You think I haven't checked out your dick at the gym?" He sat down next to me on the couch, a little closer this time, and I rolled against him as his weight pulled me in. "Jordan's right though. It's been a while since I've gotten any. Not as long as him, but a while."

"You must not be trying very hard then." I said, "You're kind of a stud."

"Bad break-up. Blah blah blah." Dylan said. "I swear I didn't even get a hard-on for like a week. Now my dick is hard all the time and I've got no one to fuck, see."

Before I knew what he was doing Dylan took my hand and put it between his legs. His cock felt massive, and it pulsed in my hand. I would have pulled away, but Dylan held onto my wrist. I was drunk, horny, and the world around me was spinning.

Jordan walked in and saw me with my hand in Dylan's crotch. He raised an eyebrow and sat down on the couch next to me. "If you two fags want to fuck, you gotta do it somewhere else. I'm watching the rest of the game."

Jordan moved closer to me on the couch and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me back toward him. His body was warm, unbelievably warm, and suddenly I had the feeling that I needed to get out of there. The situation no longer under my control. I was 28 years old, and wherever things were going, I didn't think it would turn out well for me. As I started to get up, Jordan pulled me in tighter.

"I feel like I should warn you. Dylan is kind of  a dick. He'll fuck you and then he'll never talk to you again. So don't go falling in love with him," Jordan said. He slurred his words, but he poured another shot and tossed it back. "Me, on the other hand, I'm a cool dude. I won't treat you like a slut or anything. And I've got a nice dick too."

Jordan took my free hand and put it on his cock. Now I had a dick in each hand and, so far as I could tell, two drunk college studs trying to seduce me.

"Told you he gets handsy.” Dylan said to me. Then he looked at Jordan, “Maybe he wants me to fuck him and then leave him alone. You want that, dude?"

I looked over at him, "Actually, uh . . . Not really. I'm pretty much a top. Sorry."

Dylan looked across me toward Jordan, “How many times have you heard a guy tell me that, bro?"

"Like a million." Jordan said.

"Easily a million." Dylan repeated. He reached to the table and poured us both another shot. "Jordan is my wing-man. Guy's flock to him cause he's so pretty, then I swoop in and fuck their brains out. They all want to plow his ass, but end up on their backs underneath me. It's sort of a thing I do."

"You make tops into bottoms," I said with a grin. The whiskey burned my throat.

"Well, bottoms for me." Dylan laughed. "I live a hard life."

The football game started again and for about five minutes, the conversation slowed down. I was grateful for the chance to get my thoughts back together. Just as I was starting to feel comfortable again, Dylan stood up. His cock wasn't semi-hard anymore, it was completely hard.

"Alright boys, one of you is going to suck me off. I can't take it anymore." Dylan looked down at me and then he looked at Jordan. He took a step toward Jordan, who started to get up off the couch. Dylan picked him up like a fireman and tossed him over his shoulder. He walked to the door and set Jordan down in the hallway. It was amazing. Jordan had to weigh at least 170 and Dylan lifted him like he was nothing. Then he turned back toward me and shut the door behind him.

"Look man . . .” I started.

"Look man," Dylan mocked me. "What the fuck? Do you even like dudes? I know you're into me and I'm obviously into you, so let's have some fun. It's not like I'm asking you to marry me or something. It's one lousy cock. Well, honestly, one absolutely epic cock."

He sat down on the far end of the couch and spread his legs wide. His cock stretched down one leg of his shorts. He reached across to me and placed his hand behind my neck. As soon as that big paw touched my skin, I knew it was over. As he pulled me close, I slid off of the couch and onto the floor.

I was between his legs, staring up into his crotch. The red nylon was stretched tight and I couldn't make out much of his shaft, but the head of his cock was clearly sitting against his thigh. I grabbed onto the fabric covered bulge and pushed the fabric up his leg until the tip of his dick was on display. He was uncut and the head looked huge. I'd never seen a dickhead as thick and wide as his.

"I wasn't lying about not getting laid for a while. My balls are ready to explode."

I grabbed onto his shaft and rubbed it. My hand kept moving up between his legs, farther and farther. His dick had to be eight or nine inches long. Longer than anything I had ever seen in real life. Absolutely massive. I moved to put my mouth onto the head, but he grabbed my shoulders and held me back.

"Not until you show me yours," he said softly.

I stood up and dropped my jeans. My six and a half inch dick was harder than it had been in the last five years, and it shot straight out from my groin. Dylan reached forward and pushed my shirt up over my flat, hairy stomach.

"Yes," he hissed, "I love hairy guys."

He pulled me forward, reaching around my back, until I was straddling him, sitting in his lap. He leaned forward and kissed me full on the lips. His tongue invaded my mouth and I felt his hard dick underneath me. At the same time, his huge hands rubbed my spine and massaged my neck. I kissed his neck while he nibbled on my ear. Before we broke apart, I knew what he had said earlier was true. If he asked me to do it, I would bottom for him.

Dylan took my dick in his hand and pulled it down. When he let go, it slapped back up against my stomach.

"You're pretty hard for an old guy." I could feel his absolutely solid rod underneath me. I wanted to tell him I was about as hard as I'd ever been, but didn't want to seem desperate.

"You're kind of my type." I said as I licked at his neck.

He was still toying with my dick when he said, "Guys like you are all the same. You go around fucking dudes, thinking you're a big bad top, but when you come up against a guy like me, you completely melt." He was pulling on my dick now, slowly jerking me off. Precum ran out of me like a faucet, and I was minutes away from blowing my load onto his chest. I pressed my ass down into his cock. He leaned forward and whispered, "Before I'm finished with you, I'm going to destroy this ass."

As his tongue slipped into my ear, I completely lost control. I leaned into him, pressed my face against his chest, and started to cum. He kept up the slow, methodical hand job as my cum splashed into his fist. While I came, I breathed in the smell of his body. He smelled sexy, like he'd taken a shower and then worked out, a man's musk mixed with soap. I drooled into his t-shirt and humped his hand like a fucking animal. When I was done, my face burned red. Dylan just grinned at me.

"Well, I guess you'll be game when the time comes."

"Fuck, I'm sorry." I said.

"Don't worry," Dylan said. He pushed me off of him and then stood up and pulled off his cum covered shirt. He flopped back down on the couch. "I was trying to get you off. I knew you were into me, but I didn't know you were that into me. Seriously, when was the last time you were with a guy."

"It's uh . . . not that. . . uh," I stammered.

Dylan rubbed the side of my face and then slipped his hand behind my neck. As he pulled my head into his crotch, he muttered, "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

His dick was rock hard and he grabbed it with the hand that had been behind my head. Then he spread my cum from his other hand onto his mammoth cock. He pulled on it a few times, rubbing the cum along the whole shaft, and then he pushed it toward my mouth. The stink of cum and cock overwhelmed me as I sucked his dick into my mouth.

I licked all of my cum off of his cock. It had soaked into the folds of his foreskin and I stuck my tongue under his hood to eat it all up. He purred long and hard and then wrapped his hand around my neck again. Slowly, he directed me up and down his dick, moving me where he wanted me and gently massaging my neck.

From the way he was groaning, I knew he was on the edge. His dick was so massive that I couldn't get much of my mouth on it at once. I started to jerk on his cock, but he pushed my hand away. Instead, he grabbed his dick with his own hand and pulled my face into his nuts.

There are few things I love more than sucking a guys nuts and taint, and Dylan had beautiful nuts - big, hairy low-hangers. I slobbered all over them, licking up his sweat and coating his balls in my spit. His hand never left my skull, massaging my scalp and pulling me into his body. I was breathing hard, licking underneath his sack, when he lifted up his hips and yanked my head away from his body by the hair.

"Here you go stud," he growled, "Straight from the tap."

I looked up at the big bulky jock, his muscles bulging and his cock swelling, and then his cum started to pour out. I licked up the first blast of nut and then wrapped my lips around the tip. His load filled my mouth as he held onto the back of my head.

"That's right, fucking eat it all up." He said as he thrust his cock up into my mouth. "Fucking eat that cum. You're gonna be my little whore aren't you. You want that? You want to be my cum eating whore?"

I was so absolutely in the zone that I nodded over and over again. His load just kept coming, and I had to swallow to get it all. When he was finally finished and his dick started to soften in my mouth, I tried to pull away. His cock fell out of my mouth, but Dylan held me tight, pulling me into his groin.

"Just stay there for a minute, stud. Take it all in."

I kept my head in his crotch, breathing in the hot moist air while he gently pet my head. It was incredibly erotic, his breathing slowed down and his body relaxed. I was hard again and was tempted to get myself off, but I wasn't sure how he would react. The way he mixed gentleness with authority was unlike anything I'd ever encountered before. I nuzzled up against his soft cock and closed my eyes, happy to stay there as long as he wanted me to.

His hand finally fell away and I moved back to look at him. He had his hands behind his head and I wanted to take a nose dive into his pits. He stood up and put his shorts back on and then tossed me my jeans. "Too bad it's only 1 in the afternoon, cause I wouldn’t mind snuggling up with you."

"That would be nice." I said, which was the fucking understatement of the century.

The game was over by then and after a few seconds of small talk, Dylan made for the door. He was clearly trying to get me out. "See you at the gym on Monday stud," he said as he slapped my ass hard. I did my best to slip out of the house, went home, and worked over my dick like three more times as I relived one of the hottest sexual encounters I'd ever had.