Author's Note: I am very interested in writing short stories based on the real life experiences of others. I would greatly appreciate any feedback you are willing to provide on my writing style, including content and format. Please feel free to e-mail me at gayfictionwriter@hotmail.com. Likewise, if you know of publishing companies that accept unsolicited stories, I would be grateful for your leads.
The Gym Trainer By gayfictionwriter@hotmail.com Written July 2006
By nature, I am not a show off. If anything, I consider myself to be fairly low-key. Not necessarily modest, mind you - just more interested in keeping the details of my life private. I wrote this story to capture a recent event in my life, an event that deeply impacted me. Just writing it down has helped me to relive and enjoy every detail. But along with the vivid details come questions, like why have I not tried to see him, again? Was the experience intimate to him, or was it just a part of his profession?
For the record, I am a 20 year-old Junior in college, majoring in Sports Broadcasting. I am a virgin, primarily by choice. I have known that I am gay most of my life, even as a child. When I was ten years old, unlike other boys my age, I didn't care to watch college sports on television. But when it came to the NCAA men's swimming and diving, I was fixated on the television for hours on end. I studied the male form, yearning for my own body to resemble what I saw on television. During my puberty years, I found that I not only yearned to look like these athletes, but I also yearned to be with them.
For your visual profile, I think I am attractive and have been told so by people other then my mother. My features are light - blond hair, blue eyes, fair skin. I am of average height and, comparatively speaking, I have a much better body then most guys. I find myself attracted to guys with big arms, broad shoulders and chests, ripped abs, and strong legs. These, then, are the physical attributes I work hard to have for myself.
Like many gay men, I have never been completely at comfortable with my body.
People have always made comments about it, but I don't like to show off. Mind you, I am not shy if I have a need to be buck naked around others, like in a shower or a locker room. But I am not the type of guy to walk around shirtless for no good reason except to draw attention. I am sure Freud had some theories about my inhibition.
While I haven't had the courage to tell anyone I am gay, I don't think I would be afraid to admit it if anyone were to ask. This wasn't always the case. In high school, out of peer pressure, I dated a softball player for three months. She was fun, but I could never bring myself to do more then kiss her. Looking back on our relationship, if you can call it that, I am suspicious that she knew all throughout those three months that I was not physically attracted to her. Though our time together was short, the break up was hard on her. Seeing her so sad made me swear to never have a relationship with a female again, just to fit in with the expectations of society. I managed to graduate from high school without having to make up too many lies when asked, "Why don't you have a girlfriend?"
I joined a fraternity my first year in college, primarily to meet more people and improve my social life. Deep down, I think I also joined a fraternity to live out my dream of living with 75 other young, testosterone-filled men. Let me tell you, the fantasy of "homosexual" activities happening in fraternities is just that -- a fantasy. Even the hazing activities that took place during Initiation Week were void of anything that could be perceived as queer.
My fraternity is an odd assortment of guys. We have athletes, brains, socialites, and slackers. We have handsome, cute, average, and ugly. We have conservative, liberal, moderate, and apathetic. For the most part, I get along with everyone in my fraternity. I even consider some of the guys as my own "brothers."
I play all of the sports necessary to give me that "straight" stereotype, and am properly seen with enough attractive sorority girls to avoid any suspicion. The only time I feel out of place in the fraternity is when we throw a house party and all of my fraternity brothers swap stories the following day of their hook ups with "chicks." Speaking of which, this is how the first time I fooled around with another guy got started...
It was Friday night and I had nothing better to do. The other guys in the fraternity house were throwing a party, complete with kegs of beer, togas, and sorority girls.
I decided to go to Sports Courts, the only gym open 24 hours, in hopes of avoiding drunken party-goers. I was tired of coming up with excuses for not hooking up with a sorority girl at the fraternity parties. In truth, I think some of my Brothers were catching on to my lame reasons. I thought it would be better to just avoid the whole party, rather than come up with excuses that were becoming transparent.
During the day, Sports Courts is usually packed with meat-heads, gym bunnies, and jocks. At night, the gym crowd is light, especially on weekends. Mainly guys from the factory workout at the gym after 10 p.m. - not really my type of men. This may not be the best time to check out guys, but it was definitely the best time to get a good workout.
I checked in at the front desk and went to the locker room to change. The locker room smelled of its usual must and odor. Two middle aged men changed out of their dirty factory uniform and into their workout clothes.
I picked my usual locker, right next to the full length mirror that stretched from wall to wall. From this vantage point, it was easy to discreetly check out guys in the mirror. Unfortunately, no one in the crowd tonight even tempted my eye.
I threw on a pair of soccer shorts and a tight fitting under shirt, fastened my lock and headed to the weight room.
As I made my way to the free weights, a guy doing shoulder presses caught my eye. He looked to be in his early twenties. Clean cut, high cheekbones, and a strong jaw line. His brown hair was messy, and he had just a hint of shadow on his chiseled face. His tank top clung tightly to his chest, and his legs were covered by nylon warm up pants.
I tried not to let him know that I was staring at him, so I made my way over to the dumbbells. I picked up a pair of thirties and hammered out a set. I was working on my second set when he came over, stood next to me, and asked, "Hey, can I get a spot?"
His voice was deep, but gentle. I did a mental assessment of the situation.
He doesn't speak with a lisp, so I thought, he's probably straight. Then again, I don't speak with a lisp. Further assessment revealed that he and I were the only two in the weight room. Duh! He's only asking for my assistance because there's no one else to ask, not because he's trying to be friendly. Oh well, I thought, at least I can sneak a closer glance at him.
"You bet," I replied, trying to sound more manly than usual. I followed behind him at a safe distance, checking out his V-tapered back.
He laid down on the bench, pounded out six reps of 250 lbs. On his seventh rep he started to struggle a bit, and by the tenth rep, I had to give him support.
"You need me to spot you for another set?"
"No, I'm finished bench pressing for the night." He extended his hand. "Thanks, man. I'm Brian."
I returned the gesture with a firm shake. "No problem. My name is David." The moment was awkward, and thankfully, it ended quickly. Brian turned around and headed to an incline bench to work his abs. I headed back to the dumbbells to continue working on my biceps.
Over the next half hour, I spied on Brian out of the corner of my eyes. As he did twenty-something different variations of crunches, I imagined what his abs must look like under his tank top. Every now and then when his shirt would bunch up on his torso, I got a flash of skin, and that was just enough to keep me interested.
As he continued with his workout, I made my away around the different stations. I was getting start a set of pull ups, when Brian dismounted the negative-incline bench and headed in my direction. "So do you come here often?"
"I manage to get here four times a week. I never come at the same time, though. I work out around my class schedule."
Brian said, "I've never seen you before. I actually work as a trainer here, so I end up meeting most of the members."
I was excited for a brief moment that he seemed to take interest in me, until he asked, "Have you ever used a trainer?" Ah, now I understood his motive - he was interested in selling me a training package.
"No, I've never used a trainer before, and with tuition and housing costs, I probably can't afford it right now."
"I gotcha, Bro. If you ever change your mind, just ask for me at the front desk. I see you already have good form and technique, but a trainer can help you get to the next level when you hit a plateau."
We exchanged the obligatory, "Nice meeting you," and Brian took off. I went back to my pull ups, a bit disheartened that I could not come up with any more conversation to keep him around for a bit longer.
After Brian left the weight room, I tooled around for another hour, during which time I counted a total of three others who came and went. This was my off day for cardio, so I headed back to the locker room to shower.
I was dreading the though of having to face all of the people at the party, when suddenly, Brian walked into the locker room, his hair dripping with sweat and his tank top saturated to the point that I could faintly make out his dark nipples. Brian must have gone to the treadmill after leaving the weight room.
Trying to sound casual, I asked, "You're still here?"
Brian nodded. "I was just going to sit in the sauna a bit before hitting the showers. You going in, too?"
I was so caught off guard I didn't know what to say. Brian misinterpreted my hesitation for discomfort, and quickly added, "Don't worry about me. I'm not one of those guys who go in naked."
I mustered up a fake laugh in an effort to disguise my disappointment. "Yea, I was just headed in myself to relax. And you don't need to worry about me sitting around naked, either. I'm not that proud!"
Brian stripped off his tank top, threw it into his locker, and made his way into the sauna. I managed to steal a glance at his naked torso before he disappeared into the sauna. Brian was perfectly chiseled. His smooth chest was well molded. His biceps were thick, and his shoulders were broad. His six-pack looked more like a twelve pack. A tiny bit of hair ran from the bottom of his navel to the top of his pants. Brian looked like he may have fallen out of the pages of an Abercrombie catalog.
I took off my undershirt, headed in behind him, and shut the door behind me.
Brian was laying flat on his back when I got in. He was sprawled out on the floor with his hands laced behind his head. His eyes were closed, so as I made my way to lay on the bench, I stole another chance to admire his physique.
Brian's running pants were pulled down just enough for me to see that he was wearing 2xist Underwear. I couldn't tell if they were boxers or briefs, so I let myself fantasize that he had on a jock strap. His legs were slightly spread, still covered by his pants.
I planted myself on to the bench and sat facing Brian. In an attempt to look casual, I propped my right leg on the bench, and let my left leg touch the floor.
The lighting in the sauna was moderate, but with the wood walls, floor, bench, and door, the room seemed much smaller. At most, eight men could comfortably sit in the sauna without running the risk of touching one another.
Brian seemed relaxed. He took deep breaths while his eyes remained closed, the kind of deep breaths that cause your chest and diaphragm to move up and down.
After what seemed like an eternity, Brian opened his eyes to look at me. He gave a prolonged stare at my shirtless body.
"Man, you've got some meat on you," he finally remarked. Until now, I was very comfortable around Brian and was not self conscience about my body. All of a sudden, the prospect that he was comparing our bodies made me nervous.
"Thanks. I try to eat well and play sports a few times a week. I don't think you'll ever see me as a cover model for Men's Fitness magazine, though." Brian laughed and I felt a little less nervous.
We made small talk for a few more minutes. I asked Brian for nutrition and fitness tips. Brian asked me about getting into college and the difficulty of professors.
Even though I was sweating, the heat felt good on my sore muscles. Continuing the small talk, I asked Brian if saunas actually provide physiological benefits, or if relief was purely psychological. He provided me an extensive explanation and I was impressed with his knowledge of exercise science and the human body.
We were silent for a minute and then Brian added, "Heat therapy is best when used with muscle and tissue massage. The massage helps move toxins through your body, while the heat helps you to sweat them out."
There was another lull in conversation, and then Brian asked, "Have you ever had a massage in a sauna?"
"No. Actually, I've never even had a massage before. I've always been afraid of getting a massage from a gorgeous woman and then popping a boner," I replied. This confession was partly true, but also my way of reassuring Brian of my "heterosexual" inclination.
That got Brian laughing hard. "Believe me, a lot of my male clients have the same concern. That's why they come to me."
There was an awkward pause, followed by Brian asking, "What if I tried a massage on you right now? I'm not a gorgeous woman, so you don't have to worry about getting wood. You may find that your muscles will feel better."
I mustered up a nervous laugh, and then said, "Thanks for the offer, but I'm sure your gym would have a problem with you giving free massages, particularly because we're in the sauna right now."
With seemingly little thought, Brian shrugged off my concern. "I am a contractor with this gym. I can choose any way I want to advertise my business. This will be a quick massage just to see if you like it. If it helps your muscles, you can sign up for a full massage, and then I'll charge you the full amount. If it makes you more comfortable, we can lock the sauna door, too, just so no one thinks anything funny is going on." He held up his hands, palms facing me and with a grin added, "No strings attached, I promise."
By now, I had come to the conclusion that Brian was nothing more then a straight guy who was trying to sell his services to make money. I thought to myself, he'll probably rub my back a little, maybe put his elbow in my shoulder. Even if I do think he is attractive, I'll have on my shorts, and he'll never know if I get turned on by his touch. Plus, his grin was really cute.
"Alright," I said, and then jokingly added, "Don't expect a referral if this does not feel good."
With that, Brian popped up off the floor, turned the lock on the door knob, and moved next to me.
I repositioned myself on the bench, lying on my stomach, arms at my side, and my head turned towards Brian. My body was stiff as a board, in nervous anticipation of feeling his hands on my back.
Brian looked at me, and with a friendly grin said, "You know, it really would be easier if you took your shorts off. That way I can fully massage your thighs."
Thankfully, I had on a pair of clean briefs, so it didn't seem like a big deal to take off my shorts. I rolled over, slipped off my shorts, and as I was getting ready to lay down again, Brian said, "Underwear, too. Your glutes are a major muscle and I can't work them if you have underwear on."
Now, I played sports all throughout high school and was okay about showering in front of other guys. Even in my fraternity, it was no big deal to change in front of my room mates. But this was different. Brian was asking me to be naked, while his fingers worked my backside.
As if he knew what was going through my mind, Brian said, "It's okay, bro. I'm a guy, too. I'll turn around while you get comfortable."
While Brian faced the door, I took off my underwear, bunched them next to my shorts on the floor, and once again, laid on my stomach. I put my soft cock pointing towards my chest, so that if I did spring a boner, Brian wouldn't notice.
Brian turned around, and with a reassuring smile, said, "Much better." I wasn't so sure I agreed with his assessment of the situation. But, I closed my eyes to let him know I was ready.
Brian started with my neck, working out kinks that had multiplied over time.
I could feel blood flow to my head, and moaned softly out of pleasure. He seemed to appreciate my feedback, albeit barbaric, and increased his intensity. So far, no erection.
He moved from my neck to my shoulders and upper back. This time, he used the palm of his hand to kneed the muscles in my shoulders. Occasionally, he would find a knot in my back and ground his elbow into it to ease the tissue. Still no boner.
When he was through with my upper back, he concentrated his efforts on my lower back, just grazing my butt checks. I knew he was making his way down to my glutes, and I felt a little stirring in my cock.
Finally, his hands were on my glutes and thighs. Brian was right - my glutes were major and apparently very, very sore. As he kept working magic with his hands, I became keenly aware that my cock was responding to his touch.
I assumed that he would only work on my backside, so when I started to get a little wood, I didn't worry too much. I figured Brian wouldn't even notice.
To my surprise, Brian said, "Roll over and I'll work on your front for a while."
With my cock already semi-erect, there was no way I was going to turn over. Seeing my hesitation, Brian said, "When you get a massage, blood flows all over your body. It is only natural that you may get an erection. It's totally natural." How did he know? Maybe he is just a professional, and maybe this really does happen often.
Against my better judgment, I did as he instructed and turned over. My cock was now resting on my thigh, in full view. I couldn't help wondering what was going on in Brian's mind. Is he surprised that I shave my crotch? Is he comparing the size of our cocks? Is he wishing I was a woman instead of a man? Or is he so accustomed to seeing cocks that he didn't even notice my semi hard-on?
Brian started massaging my chest, with long strokes that ran from my collarbone to the base of my ribcage. I kept thinking about anything non-sexual, in hopes that I would not stand at full mast. I thought about school. I thought about politics. I even thought about being with a girl. That seemed to do the trick in cooling down my testosterone levels.
With my cock softening somewhat, I was relieved enough to close my eyes and actually enjoy the massage. A minute or two later, the chest massage ended and Brian's fingers worked their way down to my abs. Now, for the first time ever, another man's hands were just inches away from my dick. That thought alone made the blood flow to my cock, again.
The massage to my abs started with light teasing of my skin. Brian moved his fingers from my navel, to my sides, down to my pubic area, and back up to my navel. This pattern repeated in one continuous triangular motion, each time adding a little more pressure.
With each stroke, my cock anticipated being touched, and responded accordingly. I couldn't take it anymore. My cock was now almost fully erect, and Brian didn't seemed deterred from massaging my abs. It didn't take long until I was fully erect, with my cock lying on my stomach, pointing straight to my face.
The head of my dick was at my navel, and I knew my abdominal massage couldn't continue. At first, Brian tried to continue the massage, with his finger tips working around my cock. But my engorged shaft limited access to my abs.
I was so embarrassed I wanted the massage to end. Better yet, I thought, Brian could just leave the sauna and give me a few minutes to give my balls a little relief from the built up pressure.
I figured Brian could work on me no more. I was getting ready to mutter a quick thank you, when Brian said, "I am just going to hold your cock away from your abs so I can finish your stomach."
Before I had time to process what Brian just said, his right hand grabbed my cock, while his left hand continued to massage my abs. Electricity shot through my body. Using the palm of his hand, Brian pressed the shaft of my cock against my left thigh, seemingly oblivious to its throbbing, while he worked his fingers into my abdominal muscles.
I closed my eyes and prayed the massage would end soon. Even with my eyes shut, I could feel my cock oozing pre-cum. On his part, he seemed totally focused on working on my abs. My cock in his hand didn't seem sensuous to him at all - this was just a "normal" part of giving a massage. To me, having never had my cock touched by another guy, this was the equivalent of sex.
"Just relax," Brian said, "I'm now going to massage you with more pressure, going from your obliques, down your quads, and I'll stop right at the top of your knee. In order to get the full benefit, I'll need to do it in one movement, so I'll need to hold your cock away from your body."
This time, Brian grabbed the head of my cock with his fingers and held it straight up. His left palm pushed firmly down on the muscles of my side, and ran its course through my quads, first my left, then my right.
Brian's fingers on the head of my cock felt much different then his hand on my shaft. The pre-cum that continued to trickle out of my slit acted like lube, and my cock kept slipping in his fingers. I opened my eyes and squirmed a bit, unaccustomed to a foreign hand on my cock.
"Sorry about that, Bro. You're juices are flowing a bit and I can't seem to get a good grip. I want to make sure I finish up your quads real good, so just bear with me."
Brian continued working on my thighs, but his concentration seemed less on the massage, and more on trying to hold my slippery cock.
"Brian, you've got to stop! The massage feels great, but if you don't stop holding my cock, you're going to make me cum." Panic now filled my voice, replacing the embarrassment that was previously there.
Brian stopped the massage, but continued to hold my cock. In a gentle and reassuring voice, the same voice that got me into this predicament, Brian said, "It's no big deal, Bro. I want you to feel good, and if you happen to drain your balls in the process, it's not going to bother me." And with that friendly smile, he added, "But if you want me to stop, I'll stop. I wouldn't want you to give me a bad recommendation." Yea, right. Like I was ever going to tell anyone about this night.
I gave Brian a weak smile, laced my fingers behind my head, closed my eyes, and laid back to let him know that it was alright to proceed.
Brian's left hand picked up where he left off with the massage, while his right hand clutched my dick to keep it from interfering with the massage. This time, though, my cock didn't feel like it was slipping around in his hand. I could have sworn that I felt his hand move up and down rhythmically, as though he was now purposefully jacking me off.
As if he knew my balls were aching for relief, Brian let his hand move up and the shaft faster, occasionally letting his finger tips rub the head of my cock. I was now keenly aware that his other hand was no longer massaging my flesh; rather, his fingers were lightly tickling my skin. At this point, I didn't care about the massage - I just wanted my balls drained.
My breathing intensified and my cock felt like it was going to explode. I moaned, "I'm coming, I'm coming." I felt every muscle in my body contract, with the greatest intensity coming from the muscles in my pubic area and my prostate. My eyes instinctively opened, not wanting to miss anything that was going to happen.
The first shot fired straight over my head and splattered on the side of the sauna. Brian's hand continued milking my cock. The next shot was almost as intense. This time, the cum landed on my chest. My balls weren't done, though, and Brian knew it. He continued to pump and the third shot flowed from my slit down my shaft, and covered Brian's hand.
When I could release no more, Brian let my cock slip out of his hands and lay limply between my legs. The pungent smell of cum filled the air. Though I felt embarrassed to have just released in front of another man, I was simply too relaxed to care.
Brian smiled at me and asked, "A little build up?" It was true, I have never produced as much cum as I did at that moment.
"I think the testosterone was pumping higher in my blood because of the workout I just finished." I'm not a good liar, but I figured it was better then admitting, "I've never been so horny in my life."
Brian turned around, picked up my shorts, and wiped his hand clean of my cum with the shorts. He then unlocked the door, and said, "You should lay here a bit longer and relax. Then take a warm shower to help soothe your muscles. And when you get home tonight, be sure to drink lots of water to flush out the toxins." All this was said to me in a very professional tone, almost void of any intimacy I had previously detected. He left the sauna, pulling shut the door behind him.
I shut my eyes, feeling completely spent. I was self conscious that I was laying naked in the sauna, covered in cum. But I was too exhausted to do anything about it. Ten minutes elapsed, and then I got up, slipped on my shorts, and headed out to the shower. I wondered if Brian would be in the shower. To my relief, I saw him standing by his locker, toweling off his brown hair. His back was towards me as I walked past him into the showers. He didn't acknowledge me. I thought to myself, what does this mean? Is he disgusted at what just happened?
By the time I finished showering, Brian was out of the locker room. I threw on my clothes and headed to my car, hoping to see him one more time for the night. I don't know what I would have said to him. I was just hoping to have some reassurance that he wasn't angry at me, or even better, a sign that he was interested in seeing me again. I looked around, but Brian was nowhere to be seen.
The attendant at the front desk looked completely disinterested in me, his job, and perhaps life in general. I nodded at him, he nodded back at me.
I took a much longer route to get home. I needed to digest the events that had just occurred. Physically, I felt awesome - a feeling similar to the first time I had a wet dream. But emotionally, I felt awful.
When I returned to the Fraternity that night, my Brothers were still partying away. I walked past my room mate, who had a Coors Light in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My experience must have left a greater impact on me then I realized, because my room mate could see a difference in my face. He asked if everything was alright, and even though I swore to myself that I would never speak of this night again, I gave him a half hearted smile and said, "I'll talk to you about it later."
I made it to my room, turned off the lights, crawled in bed and threw on my earphones and iPod. The soothing sounds of Enya eventually lulled me to sleep. Even after a good night of rest, my mind could not process with any more clarity the events that transpired.
I have yet to gather the courage to go back to Sports Courts to see Brian. Deep down inside, I don't think I am ready to face the possible reality that my first intimate experience was an emotionless encounter for Brian. For now, I think I am better off not knowing...