Sunday 13 July 2008
Fact of the Day: for the first time in a long time, I actually have a fucking clue
Big O-mometer: *****
zOMG (as the cool kids say), I ran into little hottie Marcus from a few entries back again, my gym underpants twin who wears nice little Soviet trunks like I do and who I thought was maybe being a bit flirty, at the gym again today. I WAS RIGHT! He was totally making a move on me. I know this because today things got... awkward. Or amazing. You decide.
So I was there again, with the Sunday Old Farts Club as usual since it's a Sunday, and he was there again in the steam-room with a couple of the SOFC Grand Masters when I went in there to relax after my workout. As before, he was friendly and we chatted, got to know each other a bit more. Not sure the old toppies appreciate us young `uns chatting about what is probably nonsense to them while they're trying to out-stubborn the heat, but hey -- sometimes they're also chatty and sometimes they're not, and our talking was certainly better than the casual racism and sexism which is pretty typical of all of them, being of a certain age and all. No, surprisingly, I have zero interest in being drawn into a discussion of your complaints about government, which are basically very thinly-veiled complaints about post-apartheid South Africa no longer being run by the white minority. Yes our government is bad, but it's because they're incompetent and corrupt and not because they don't look like you, which is not something you want to consider.
Anyway... back to the smut.
We have loads in common, hot little Marcus and I. Like I said previously, he seems like a nice guy (like me, obvz). He's got a great face, but -- strangely - he has no body to speak of, no real definition anywhere. It's odd. He's not thin, but he's not fat or even pudgy. He has no six-pack, but has no chunkiness there either. He looks like he is his right weight but with very little built muscle under there, like you see on small kids down at the beach with no meat on their bones whatsoever. I suppose this makes him a twink of some sort, but then again he's not really skinny enough to really fit the term. He looks like a kid's drawing of a man -- just a block, no real and distinct shape. It's not unattractive at all, it's just very undefined, which is weird to me.
Anyway, as before, I thought he was perhaps interested, and this time I was looking for confirmation. As before, he had his (fairly impressive) cock out the entire time, on display for all and sundry to admire. I will admit I might have admired it a bit, covertly. Afterwards when the heat had reached its traditional level of unbearable and I was about done to medium-rare, I went to grab a quick cool-down shower and, as before, he ended up across from me.
And as before, we chatted a bit more. But this time...
So let's assume that from the weekly football and hanging out at the gym with Trevor, I have become somewhat less shy. I'm not yet one of those guys who showers with the swing-doors open wide just yet, but I don't seal it up more watertight than a dolphin's bum or cower and change behind it, either. This isn't new; I used to get changed at the gym before starting varsity, but I was a little more modest, I guess, and although I didn't try to cover up between showering and dressing I was probably only naked visibly for as long as absolutely necessary and was more conscious of getting my undies on immediately or having my towel tightly around me all the time. But those days are some distance in the rearview mirror now. Let's also assume that, I don't know, for some unknown reason, cough liar cough the door didn't shut completely and I could sort-of accidentally cough see into his shower, since I realised last time that he does indeed leave the door open and I figured he wouldn't mind.
This all worked fairly well until I realised that he could see me watching him and we made awkward eye contact. "Scuppered!" I thought, and was ready to give up on trying to sneak a surreptitious peek and get out with my dignity and self-respect intact, and acting like I hadn't been trying to have a look.
Until I realised he was making no bones about watching me back through the convenient - and of course entirely accidental - gap between my own two shower doors.
And, not to put too fine a point on it, Marcus was getting a little too aggressive when washing his gentleman's area. And he started to bone up a little.
And then, smiling at me, a little more.
And then a lot more. Like, a lot more, like full-on 5-bell-alarm boner more. And he kept going.
It was at this point I realised that my leaving a gap in my door was being misinterpreted cough, and I was not simply being a watcher but I was in fact being cruised. I've heard the stories about this going on at gyms and I'll admit I'm pretty sure I've seen some of it happening with other members showering in cubicles across from each other on other occasions when I've been there. I figured I should take the high road and shut the door properly, even if I did it sort-of nonchalantly and non-judgmentally, like casually turning around while washing my hair and inadvertently knocking it shut with my elbow. I'm not entirely sure why I thought this would be better than just being plain offended and blatantly and unmistakeably so, because gym shenanigans are kinda not cool. Anyone could come in and we'd both be in deep shit; it's a public place, and this is not what it was intended for and probably not what 99% of the members want to be happening. And hey, let us be honest here -- it's a little sordid, after all.
But I didn't take the high road, because I was definitely looking so it's not like I'm completely innocent, and because it's also kinda hot. And I'm kinda starved of any sort of sexual experience and I don't actually know where else my little closeted self is going to get any from at this stage, so... you know... I just kinda didn't. I was getting hard myself, albeit half-hidden behind the doors, but I met his eyes and he grinned again encouragingly, and then I quite blatantly let my gaze fall down to where the show was happening.
Marcus peeped out of his shower towards the entrance to the shower area, presumably to make sure nobody else was coming in. The pair of old farts who had been present in the steam-room were still stoically sitting in there, like it was the Steam-room World Championships or something, and it was just us two getting wet in the shower area.
I've never seen a real live erection before, Diary, apart from my own, which I'll tell you was now also very much present at the time this was all happening in the shower across the way. Even the pic of Al's which he texted me by accident is just a picture, but this was it -- a real stiffy, attached to a real person standing in front of me. It was uncut (no surprise, obviously, since it's uncut flaccid so... yes, yes, I'm an idiot and durr at me etc I realised as I typed it out, but it's funnier to leave it in, so fuck it, right? Right!) and it's also fairly thick, and he's less of a grower than a show-er, so only about as long standing up as my own 6-inches-and-change, even though he has a fair amount on show there just lolling about when it's all down and unexcited which I don't. And he has been in there with a razor big time. Nothing on the bag, and just a few carefully shaped millimetres long up top with a decent treasure trail still intact up to his bellybutton, which as it happens is an innie. Thinking back, there are no remnants of tan-lines there, either.
The coast was clear, and he sort-of picked up his pace. I'm not sure what to do in these situations. I was half-keen to join in, but at the same time I wasn't, you know? It's a line I'm not sure I want to cross, being That Guy at the gym. So I didn't. But I'm not sure if, while watching the show, I'm supposed to be an idle onlooker, or a more enthusiastic one, or whether I'm supposed to keep on showering while watching so that if someone does come in it doesn't seem like anything untoward is happening. How the fuck must I know? I'm really new to all this!
I could tell that my lack of joining in was causing his interest to wane and it looked like he was going to stop, which I absolutely did not want to happen, so I grinned back nervously and made it even more obvious that I was watching. I could tell that he wanted a little more involvement from me, and I realised it was kinda now or never if I wanted to watch till the end. So - and I'm not proud of this - I kinda put myself firmly in his camp at this point. I was sort-of halfway out of sight, seeing as my doors were only slightly open, but I turned and positioned myself between in such a way that... well, let's just say that at long last I'm no longer the only one who has seen myself standing up at a full military salute. I nailed my colours to my own mast, as it were. I feel kinda dirty about that, because it turns out the stories about What Those Filthy Homos Get Up To in the Gym Shower that the pearl-clutching knee-jerk conservatives are always up in arms about are actually true, and I'm apparently one of them now and also actively enabling the rest.
I'm not going to lie -- I enjoyed the show. I offered plenty of encouraging grins and other facial expressions and everything throughout the proceedings, and I'll admit I was aching for release of my own when Marcus finally unloaded a goodly volume of material of a testicular origin onto the inside wall of his shower cubicle. It is absolutely incredible to actually watch someone cum live in front of you.
And then came the afterglow, which to me at least was just all types of awkies. I didn't quite know where to look, because I'm a total virgin and I don't know what people actually do after the big finale, because usually on the internet the scene ends and doesn't show the rest. Are you supposed to say thanks? Or "good job"? Trade high-fives? Compare notes? Tap tips? I don't have a clue. So I carried on washing my hair and whatever while he cleaned up, and waited for my own boner to dissipate. I'm proud to say I still didn't take matters in hand, even after he finished up and went to get dressed.
I'll admit I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted him to be there when I went to get dressed or if I'd hoped he would be gone because it's Awks City at this point and I would not know how to proceed; as it was, he was gone.
Needless to say, the bit of me-time I finally managed to take as soon as I got home, since the family were out and about, was spectacular; proper 5-star stuff, and quite a lot of it, too, all just finished up a few minutes ago. I will perhaps admit that I am looking quite forward to reliving this afternoon's entertainment again and enjoying some more me-time when I head off to bed a little later.
And so that's a wrap -- my first homo experience. This does count as one, right? Not quite the losing of a virginity or anything quite that landmark, I suspect, but a fairly solid, if kinda sordid, start. It was kak hot, though, just thinking about it makes my cock harden in my pants. Not gonna lie, writing about it in this entry has me all riled up and tenting my trackies here at this moment in time, like properly boned up and ready for another round.
Back to varsity tomorrow, now as something of a man and not a just boy anymore. Kinda. Maybe. You know what I mean.
-C