This story is fiction. If this story is illegal in your area or you are underage, I suggest not reading it. This is a read-at-you-own-risk sort of thing. I can't force you to /not/ read it. Basically this disclaimer exists to cover my ass eh? So other usual disclaimers apply. Read at your own risk. Otherwise, enjoy!
I was a different man, so long ago. I still held on to the body of that man... perhaps in desperation... clinging to an old identity that I held sacred so long ago. But the mind and the spirit had passed, and in its place was a stranger that had new ideals and desires. How this change had occurred can only be explained as a long and surprising process for most people who were involved, especially to me. Perhaps if I worked to simplify things this change could only be attributed to my complacency of my new place in this world... the nine to five world. The suit and tie world. A world of deadlines, faxes, public transit and black coffee. I had entered, or more accurately succumbed, to this world out of necessity and not desire. I had a family; a loving wife and three wonderful children. My priorities began to change... or rather I let them be changed and in turn unequivocally changing the man that I used to be. I was a bad-ass, at least that's what I like to tell myself. I was a man that embodied the qualities what many Americans believe a "man's man" should have. I was tall in stature standing six feet two inches in height and a healthy ninety- five kilograms or two hundred and nine pounds in weight. I chiseled my body starting when I was twelve, working hard to gain and keep a muscle tight body. I wanted the look of a marine which was always the image I attributed to "maleness". I kept my body and facial hair trimmed, not shaven or unkempt, maintaining a Marlboro man look for years to come. Just like the persona I tried to embody, I acted like one too. Acted like how I thought a gruff cowboy would act despite the fact that I was born and raised in the city. Although I didn't speak much I wasn't afraid to speak my mind when I thought it necessary. During my pre-teens onwards I was never bullied and actually did my fair share of bullying before "reforming". Rather the guilt of beating those weaker than me eventually left a bad taste in my mouth... and being so religious back then I thought that it would also leave an awful mark on my soul. So in my teens I began to consider myself a protector of sorts for those who needed it. Indeed I went out of my way to make sure that my school was safe... well as safe as I thought it should be at that time... and since I was a teenager, my definition of "safe" was not exactly prosaic. My life during my teens was filled with women, heavy drinking, women, pot, women, sports, and women, although not necessarily in that order or one at a time. I was popular, athletic, and surprisingly intelligent for a boy who rarely studied and only relied on the brief moments of attentiveness in class or during study hall. My life was as good as it could be in high school. My home life was amazing as my folks got along well and my brothers and sister and I got along fairly well. I had a steady girlfriend who I grew emotionally close to despite the fact that in the beginning I fucked around with a number of women behind her back. Eventually we would settle down and marry by the time I was twenty-two, right after I had gotten my Bachelors in Chemical Engineering. We had our first kid, a son, about six months after the wedding, and another son a year after followed by a daughter another year after. But during the four years at University and even shortly after my wedding I lived a life that could only be described as self-interested. I tried to enjoy life as much as I could, challenging the boundaries of expectations through drugs, alcohol, knowledge, and desire. During this time I became atheistic and the old religious teachings that were instilled in me as a child no longer made sense. That is to say that the concepts were no longer convincing, but its teachings and moralities were just as admirable. Perhaps in a way this new found philosophy was a way to come to grips with my actions at that time. Despite my stable relationship with my girlfriend I experimented. University was a time of many firsts for me. My first Philosophy class, my first Anthropology class, my first puff of pure Colombian gold, my first threesome, my first foursome, my first orgy, and my first gay experience, among other things... My life at that time was uninhibited to say the least. I was enthusiastic when it came to public forums and jumped at the opportunity to discuss social and political issues as I was when it came to exploring sexuality all the while maintaining my image, that gruff and hardy male look, organizing a football and rugby club (separate from the teams as we did not compete and merely played for fun) on campus. I did laps at the campus pool and used the weight room. These things helped keep me in shape despite my increasingly unhealthy lifestyle. Although for a little while I even decided that I was a vegetarian suddenly deciding that eating KFC was cruel to chickens (it is by the way). But eventually my desire for meat won over the desire to be socially conscious. Admittedly a part of it was also the fact that it wasn't uncommon for me at that time to be mocked, jokingly of course, of being a vegetarian. Apparently looking and acting like the way I did, I wasn't supposed to be a vegetarian. My first time with a man actually came in the form of a threesome. I was with my roommate, and then best friend, and a girl from one of his classes. It was an interesting experience to say the least. As much as I loved the smell of a woman... that invitingly flowery scent from the perfume that they cover themselves with, and the smoothness of their skin, and the suppleness of their breasts... there was something about the scent of a man that aroused me. My roommate was not as well built as I was, but he did his fair share of working out. There was something about his musk that drew me in a way that being with a woman never did. During that night all three of us explored our bodies in great detail. Upon touching his skin a shiver ran down the back of my neck and I had to force my body from shaking uncontrollably (I did not know why it was doing this). His skin was different from hers... it was quickly damp with sweat... and his musk permeated the air around him. The contours of his biceps were different from hers, and his chest was hard and oddly soft at the same time, so different from hers. I kissed her lips and my mind tingled, but when my lips met his my mind raced and my chest burned. As the girl explored me I began to explore him and he freely welcomed it. His rough large hands led me to the parts of his body that he wanted me to explore. He pushed my face down to his neck and I gently lapped his sweat. I made my way down his shoulders and to his arms and breathed in the smell from his arms. The girl at that time had already begun to take my member into her mouth whilst I still took my time exploring my roommate's body. My tongue found his chest which I desperately showered with gentle kisses and naughty bites. I remember hearing him groan in that rough voice as I bit his nipple which caused a rush of blood to flood my head. The heat in the room had become so intense that night and all three bodies were writhing and sweating and kissing and touching until they all became this single being that was consumed with desire. He had taken my manhood into his mouth that night but I never tasted his. I had touched it... I remember touching it, caressing it, holding it, wanting it but I never acted on it. I chose to penetrate her instead as he did. We did it together and it became like a dance. I could feel his member on my own as we both bucked in unison. With every cry of her pleasure we thrust our pelvis together in unison. I could feel the heat of his body as I could feel hers... but his... it was overpowering. I wanted to keep up with him more than I wanted to keep up with her. I wanted to feel his tool rubbing against mine more than I wanted to fuck her. In the end she had become a method to make my desire to feel him a reality. Then we came... perhaps at the same time I do not know. But the girl's cry was loud while the two of us just grunted and moaned together, in unison, our eyes locking until our cum began to leak out onto our thighs. I remember that while she slept and he was still awake, I ran a hand across his face... feeling his five o'clock shadow on my skin. I remember leaning over towards him and kissing him on the lips. I think I remember his hand on the small of my back and his tongue caressing my lips. And then after that there was nothing but the blackness of sleep.
Chapter 2 Moving forward, it was right after my second son was born that I began to realize that I needed to settle down when it came to a job. I began to realize that I now had lives that depended on me and I began to change my life accordingly. There were no more random short jobs whose main purpose was to make easy money which I would quickly spend. Now I was looking for permanent employment. That's what I thought I needed to do; I thought I needed the suit, the tie, and the cubicle to make my family... work. Despite the fact that my degree was in Chemical Engineering, I got a job at the office as a floor Manager. My responsibilities included making sure that the people below me do their job in time while making sure that I finish my job in time; which usually involves a lot of Excel, Word, and Access work. I confirm the receipt of the items as well as their contents, make sure the paper work is in order, add the shipment onto the inventory, and then forward them to where they need to be. I keep a tally on how many pass by, I keep a tally on how much paper work that day had been done, and if there was no work, I keep a tally on how much useless office paper work was shredded to keep the workers occupied instead of being sent home early. At first I wore a suit but I soon found out that it was unnecessary. I brought the suit but left it on my chair and walked around with a polo-shirt, a tie, and black dress pants. I'd like to add that I pulled off the look quite well. My square frame was highlighted by the contours that the shirt made around my body, and my dirty blonde hair and green eyes always seemed to fit well with whatever coloured shirt I was wearing. Just like in high school and university I received my fair share of looks and it not only amused me but aroused me as well. I made a lot of money working for this company. We were all about Statistics - numbers. How many people were in a particular place, of what gender and what ethnicity, of what profession, and whatever else we needed to know. Whatever the people deemed to share with us we tallied them and sent them to the government who studied the numbers and released those figures of the number of the country's population did such and such, or had such and such, or earned such and such. Numbers, nine to five, statistics, thus was my life. For fifteen years that's all I did. I worked out at a gym, came home, had dinner, watched Letterman, fucked, slept, woke up, bathed, ate, drove, worked, left, drove, worked out, had dinner, watched Letterman, fucked, slept... wash, rinse, repeat. My daughter was a product of a broken condom during one of those cycles, but that doesn't mean that I love her any less than her brothers. She's my little angel. Then six years after her at the age of thirty I had another boy. But this was my whole life: work and family. In fifteen years I was a completely different person than what I once was and what I had aimed to be when I was younger. It wasn't at all that bad as I loved my family and didn't mind my job, but the idea of a broken dream and forgotten promises, to self and to others, still lingered in the back of my mind and it began to eat away at my self esteem and my life. I began to dream for another chance... a dream to reclaim the youth that I once had. Even though I was only thirty-seven years old, I felt older. Although I was still proud of my looks, I was secretly ashamed of my life and thus my entire being. Youth had left and had taken the life that had lain rooted in my soul. It was at this time, when I was thirty-eight, that I began to change. With the advent of the internet and particularly social networking websites, came with it a way to communicate with the past. What was initially intended as a new forum to communicate with other people in the office unintentionally opened new worlds for me as well as helped me rediscover old ones. I began to reconnect with long lost relatives and friends. Amongst these rediscovered history came the memories, and with the memories came back the desire, especially when I was reconnected with Marcos Avaris, my old roommate during college. At first there were just a few emails every couple of weeks, which turned into ever week, which then became every other day or so. I had reconnected with my old friend and we caught up, sharing our lives since we last saw each other. He had moved to Mexico finding solace in the beaches, sands, sun, and a woman and family of his own. Like me he had succumbed to the traps of practicality and the "modern" way of life as the two of us defined it. But at least he had the beach and a year round summer at his disposal. In time our conversation wandered into that event that occurred so long ago... as we reminisced we began to talk about the threesome that we shared in college. He was the first to admit that he had a good time and wished that more had happened. I felt it safe enough to tell him that I shared the same feelings and that I had at one point, and still do, wished that the two of us had done more. Marcos admitted that he had had more experience with men than he had let on at that time. He begun to tell me stories of his sexual exploits before meeting his wife, and eventually even told me about his current exploits outside of his marriage. By this point in time I knew through common sense that it was not a good idea to have this kind of conversation using my work email address and created a different email account for the sole purpose of communicating with Marc. I became paranoid and deleted all of the emails that we exchange after I had forwarded them to my new email address. I made sure that history files and cookies were deleted. Every time I read one of his emails my body began to shake with anticipation and arousal. My palms became damp and my body became flushed, yearning for the stories and the exploits that he was willing to share with me. I asked him why he did it, going behind his wife sleeping with men and women, although it seems they were mostly men. He gave me a rather half cocked answer explaining that he just needed a sexual liberation that his marriage and conventional life could not offer. But for me those words were sharp and true, echoing in my head and piercing my consciousness. I understood his words, perhaps more so than he did... at least that's what I told myself. He had asked me about my experiences with men and I told him everything that had happened since we last saw each other in college and how I had changed my life after marriage. I told him how now I felt lost and listless with my job and my life. I quickly added how I loved my family, but beyond the pleasures I got from being a father and a husband I felt empty. His advice was to do something to change it... which I thought was not at all that helpful since I had already come to that conclusion so long ago, but just had not made the effort to do anything about it, perhaps even lacking the courage to do so. I was curious, he pointed out, what it was like to be with men. He explained how this desire would never go away until it was explored. I understood what he meant. I knew that going through my life just as I did at that time would slowly eat away at the very essence of who I was. Eventually the misery would fester and grow and begin to affect other aspects of my life, including my family. I began to wonder how it affected my family now. I then realized that it had been some time, quite some time, since I had been with my wife sexually. In fact Rachel and I had had sex even less since my third son was born. When was the last time? I could no longer remember... I remember lying beside her... I began to think back wondering what I did... I did kiss her right? I must have, she is my wife after all. I thought that I had always given her a kiss before we slept and before I left for work. But beyond that I could no longer remember when we were last intimate. This revelation astonished and saddened me. I no longer knew how I felt about my wife. Marc had suggested that I explore and broaden my horizons when it came to my sexuality. At first I refused citing my marriage and what little of my fabricated morality remained, but Marc just scoffed at that and said something along the lines of the sanctity of marriage having never existed in the first place. That it was a purely political construct that had no social basis regarding the desires that fountain within human beings. That and he justified it as something that would never hurt his wife or family if they never knew about it. In fact he even said that his sexual exploits on the side improved his family life, saying that he was happier and more attentive because of it. Of course at this point I had forced myself to believe anything he had said. The desire that was festering deep within my body had grown in influence and I could no longer listen to the whispers of social sense and conventions. My body wanted to do it, needed to do it, desired it, that experience that I had wanted for so long. But I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to go about doing this, where to start. It was then that Marc helped me by suggesting where to go. It seemed before he moved he used to frequent a gym downtown where he used to pick up guys. He said that it was the best place for me considering my physique and that I would have no problem finding what I was looking for... whatever that was. I was intrigued. I began to ask a question about what it was, what to do, protocol, when to go, how to get there, and when I should go. There were so many questions which I realized, now, must have been annoying for Marc but he showed no sign of it. Instead he was quite patient and answered my questions in length and I began to take mental notes and began to plot my plans. When all was said and done I made a plan to go right after work. I usually went to the gym to work out for a couple of hours so things didn't change that much. What was different was the gym that I was going to and perhaps what I would be doing.
The day finally came and the first half of it seemed so long. The anticipation had reached an apex and it was difficult to contain my excitement. I didn't jack off, Marc said that since it was my first time (that is to say first time in a long while... and first time to do anything more) it would be better if I didn't. That it would help with the sexual excitement if I didn't pleasure myself beforehand. He was right. All through the morning I could hardly control my foot which tapped incessantly. I wanted to touch myself, pleasure myself, but forced myself back; wanting the pleasure to come from another man's touch and not mine. It was difficult to concentrate and it became difficult to do any of my work. But the excitement and the desire that consumed my body also aroused me. I enjoyed it... the wanting and the waiting. At one point the desire became so much that my hand shook uncontrollably. One of my subordinates took notice and asked if I was alright, I told him that I was fine and laughed it off. I just told him that I was just really looking forward to something. When he asked what it was I just said that it was nothing big, just looking forward to going to the gym after work to let out some stress. He said something about how he knew what it was like, but at that point I no longer had the mental patience to listen to him so I excused myself and left. Then when the clock stroke 4:30, I left as quickly as I could, almost running out of the office in my excitement. The gym was across town, quite further away than the gym that I used to frequent. It also meant that it was further away from my house and workplace which meant that it was far enough that I would, hopefully, not see anyone that I knew. It took me half an hour to drive to the gym. At that point enough time had passed that I had regained some semblance of control over my body. I took several minutes of pseudo meditating in the parking lot to calm myself and control my libido. After all Marc also said that even though a lot of things had happened to him there it didn't happen all the time, also it had been some time since he had gone to the place and now it might be totally different. Perhaps nothing would happen at all, a thought which filled me with surprising dread. I walked in the sliding glass doors and towards the receptionist. The man behind the counter had dark features, who I guessed was Hispanic, and he welcomed me with a smile. "Welcome, you're a new face. First time?" He said with a toothy grin. The man was beautiful to me. He was built, more so than I was, but it didn't seem hideous or too much. His chest was like a barrel, and his biceps and shoulders where staggering in width. He had black short cropped hair and dark brown eyes which were highlighted by his sharp oval face. He was shorter than I was, probably around 5'9". His face was clean shaven and his voice was not as deep as mine, which made me think that he sounded a lot like Mario Lopez, only with slightly more muscle mass. Muscle mass that didn't at all seem obscene or unnatural with his frame, on the contrary, he looked quite attractive to me. I guess him to be no more than twenty two years old, which impressed me more, having a body like his at that age. "Sir?" He inquired. "Hmm? Sorry, no it's not my really my first time." I smiled awkwardly. "I used to work out at a gym across town after work. I just thought that a change of scenery might be in order." "Well I can actually tell. So you probably don't need that much instruction from us then since you probably already developed your own workout routine. So you want to join our gym then?" "Well I was just kind of hoping on testing the waters first. The place seems pretty impressive. Let's see how it works out." I smiled. I saw him force back a wry smile. "Well then I'll have someone show you around." He left and went into a room with a nod and a smile. I wasn't lying though, this place was impressive. It was actually larger than the gym that I frequented. From the outside I could tell that it had two levels as opposed to my old gym's one. The building was also definitely wider. It wasn't long before the clerk came back with another man in tow. This time it was a blonde man close to his age, perhaps even slightly younger. The guy wasn't as wide as the clerk, but I could tell from the muscle shirt that strained to contain his body that he was still quite built. He had bright blonde hair and piercing green eyes, like mine. He was about as tall as I was, but more slender. He had a square jaw and an enthralling look which reminded me of Abercrombie & Fitch male models. "This is Fisher, he'll be showing you around the place. Since it's your first time, you don't have to pay anything." "Really? Thanks." I smiled. "Yeah, we're pretty confident that you'll be coming back so.," he laughs. I raised my eyebrow at that comment, but Fisher already motioned me to follow him and so I turned my attention to my guide. "Working stiff eh?" "I'm sorry?" This comment pulled me back from my wandering gaze, which had tried to take in every inch of the seemingly massive and lively facility. Did I just hear him right? I wondered. He laughed and infectious laugh and I could help but grin sheepishly. "You're wearing a suit." "Oh," I said, looking down at myself, having forgotten what I had worn on the way to the gym. "Yeah, office work. 9-5, the usual you know?" "No, not really." He admitted, "I've been here since I was seventeen, and before that I worked as a camp counselor. Never really have done much paper work. Well. basic stuff I suppose, like kid stuff for you, but nothing in your league I'm sure. I sure as hell didn't have to wear a suit for it." I forced an awkward chuckle. "Yeah. I'm not much of a suit man myself to be honest, but dress code you know? What can you do eh?" "Well don't worry," he said with a coy smile, "you pull it off well." I think I just blushed. Did I just blush? I remember having said nothing in return. He lead me to two wide set doors at the rear of the place, ushering me forward as he held a door open for me that lead to a narrower hallway with two doors on each opposing side, one for men and another for women. "Well come on in," he invited with a wide smile on his face, holding the men's changing room door open for me as well. The moment I walked in I was greeted by the familiar musk of male change rooms. The room was quite wide and tiled on all sides except for the cement floor. There were three long rows of lockers that cut through the middle of the room, separated in between by a narrow walkway for a total of six rows. There were wooden benches on each side of the lockers, and on the far right side of the room was an open doorway. "That leads to the showers, the steam room, and a Jacuzzi. We also have a pool, but that's at the far rear of the building and you can access it by going back into the hallway and heading past the doors in the far end. All facilities are free for our members. Oh, and for you for the rest of the day." "When do you close?" He laughed heartily. "Actually we're a 24 hour gym. But you're only free until the rest of this day. Don't be offended, we don't actually give first timers free gimmes a lot, but you're pretty hot so. and we gotta make money you know?" He added with a wink. "Oh, the exception to the 24 hour thing is the pool by the way. The pool is only open as long as there's a lifeguard on duty." That last part drove his wry compliment about my attractiveness out of my mind. Not to mention that my eyes were now wandering around the room, taking in the few men who were in various levels of undress. "So, do you need any help?" He asked. Was there something in how he said it? I had started looking for the clues the moment I walked in through the doors, clues of the various things that Marc told me about. But there was nothing, everyone seemed quite normal in their routine. "No, it's alright. I'll find my way." I said with a smile. When he left I turned around and walked towards one of the rows and stationed myself in front of an empty locker, preparing myself to change.
To be continued: Questions, comments, hate mail, random shit: machofocker@hotmail.com