Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2014 05:31:59 -0500 From: Breed Pig Subject: WHAT I BECAME, PART 1 Can you imagine life without Nifty? Please show your support with contributions to keep the Archive online. You can find out how at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html This story is mostly fictional. Portions may be fictionalized accounts of the author, EXCEPT WHEN INDICATED. It contains descriptions of sexual interactions between males. All copyrights belong to the author. All Rights Reserved. May not be republished outside of nifty.org without the author's permission. Comments very much welcome at breedpig@gmail.com WHAT I BECAME, PART 1 We've seen each other for months, several times a week. No, I'm not talking about dating, but rather I see him/them at the gym probably often enough that it's not just accidental. Maybe we've found each other's schedules and we get to the gym at the same times. Maybe it's subconscious. Maybe it's just accident and coincidence. Maybe it's...maybe. We haven't ever had a single conversation. There's been some talking, but that's different. I noticed his wedding ring fairly early on. I don't know why, but I always notice if they're married or not. I think I have a fetish. He's in pretty good shape, on the lean side but he has big shoulders — like softballs — and when he wears a loose-fitting tank top it's obvious that he chest is well defined, even through all that chest hair. He's blondish, but that chest hair that I can't stop looking at it much darker. Unlike most men these days, he's clean-shaven. And that's fucking hot. I know it's not stalking. He looks at me as much as I look at him. There haven't been any smiles or anything at all cruisy going on. Lord knows I've tried. I like that he looks back. Makes me feel like I'm not just stalking, or that I'm making him uncomfortable. It just is what it is. And what does he see when he looks back? I'm on the short side, hairy pretty much all over. I'd say "they say I'm handsome", but I know I am. This isn't conceit, it's just refusing to go with some kind of false modesty. And my self-image has improved remarkably over the past couple of years as I've lost some weight and gained a shit-load of muscle mass. I'm sure if this married dude and I measured, my shoulders would be lots bigger than his: it's just that with him being on the trim side, they *look* bigger. And they are more defined. I'm not so much cut as what you'd call beefy. Meaty, even. 47" chest, 34" waist, 23" quads, 16" arms. I'm 5'7". Blue eyes just like the married guy. My hair is darker than his, though I keep the hair above my neck buzzed short: a decade ago when I was in the Air Force for a 2-year stint I learned how easy it is to take care of hair this short. When it's grown out, it's curly, and by now I'm sure there are a few stray grays in it. I don't touch the hair on my body, though: I'm not a Bear and not one of those people who has an opinion on body hair one way or the other, except maybe to say it'd be way too much effort to keep this much body with this much hair groomed all the time. Besides, I know how much just about any man loves my furry ass, and though my head-hair may be darker than the married guy's my body hair is blondish. Meaning that I'm much hairier in real life than most pics would indicate. And I love doing legs at the gym. It's my favorite workout. Partly because I end up so exhausted and relaxed afterwards, but the one showoff-y think I allow myself during workouts is letting them all see how big and rounded my ass is. I'll always choose the squat machines and bench that let them all see my ass when I'm exercising it. Legs day is also the one day I'm guaranteed to stick around in the locker room afterwards, spending time in the steam room. Lots of time. As much time as I can stand in that kind of heat. I could say it's to make sure my legs are cooled down and being taken care of properly, but really? Showing my ass off, even clothed, makes me horny as hell. The steam room at my gym is large, and you have to go through the shower area to get to it. Which means it's also somewhat private. Gym employees regularly go through and check on things, but there's always enough time to rub one out — preferably with others watching or better, joining in. Today was one of those days, and today I showed up at the gym already pretty goddamned horny. I hadn't gotten off in a couple of days and I was anticipating having a *great* legs day. And my married dude walked in right behind me, was standing in line right behind me to check in with the front desk. I knew he had a great view of my ass, and I'd hoped that on the long walk through the gym back to the locker room, he'd be watching my ass the whole way. I don't know if he was, I was just hoping so. And if he wasn't looking at it then, I know I caught him a few times staring as I was doing squats, staring as I did reps on the calf machine. staring as I did lunges. I got on an elliptical after I was done. Not for cardio, just to cool down a bit. That's when I saw him head off into to the locker room. Dammit! I'd just started the elliptical's program and didn't want to just step back off and follow him. So I completed just a five-minute session and headed into the locker room myself. And my married guy was nowhere. I wandered about the lockers trying to look like I wasn't wandering about the lockers, wasn't looking for someone. I figured that the few guys that were in there thought I was just some mook who forgot which locker he'd stored his stuff in. Still, the married dude was nowhere. Had I missed him when he left? Sometimes he didn't bother showering at the gym...he'd just grab his gear and leave. Shit. I quickly stripped, and grabbed my towel: regardless of what body parts I'm working out on any given day, I never wrap the towel around me. I just hold it in front of me. I figure that's the right mix of modesty and showing off. I hung up my towel, then wet myself down in a shower stall to get rid of at least some of the stink. Then I headed right into the steam room. At first I thought I was alone — sadly — but then I saw them: my married man was sitting on the lower level, also buck-ass naked, and there was another guy in there with him sitting near-but-not-too-near him. They were absolutely still and looking forward, which was every kind of betrayal that my entrance had them abruptly stop whatever was going on. Score! I walked past the two and sat at the first level as well, but against the back wall at 90-degrees from those two. This way I could look at them and also look ahead if that seemed too intrusive. I was also precisely aware that my right knee was less than a meter away from my married guy's left knee. Quite a bit closer in fact. After settling in a little, I leaned back against the relatively cold tile and closed my eyes. My hands were at my sides, not in my lap. Even though my dick isn't by any means the biggest, I'm not one of those growers: I'm a show-er. My cock is thick and lays to the left when it's soft. I opened my eyes to the tiniest slits, knowing the steam would prevent the men from seeing that I was now looking at them. And both were looking at me, not towards each other. Had I been wrong about them messing around a bit? No! They both resumed stroking their own cocks while checking me out. After a couple of minutes, the other guy started trying to get my married guy's attention, obviously wanting to finish messing around, having assumed that I was not one of those guys who did that kind of thing in the steam room. He quickly became frustrated and got up and left. My married dude didn't break his stare at me. So I spread my legs more, causing my cock to move a bit and start to get hard even though I didn't want it to (at least not yet), and hadn't touched it. My married guy started stroking his cock faster, and when a slight groan had escaped him I took that as a cue to open my eyes and sit up. This time, he didn't stop his slow-stroke of what I could now see was a significantly larger cock than my own. Oh, mine was probably nearly as thick a his, but my 6" was no match for what had to be at least 8" of hard dick. In moments my cock was fully erect even though I still hadn't touched it: I know how these things play out. Although married, the guy wanted dick. And this was his way of getting it. In fact, he was probably an enthusiastic cocksucker. That's a bit one-sided for my taste, and it did ding my impression of him a little bit, but he was still fucking hot, his chest hair now matted down like a carpet across pecs big enough to still give form under all that fur. My cock strained even more and though he probably couldn't see it, I could feel a big glob of precum running down the front of my fully hard shaft. He began stroking in earnest, and with he had a clear goal. The married guy was getting off looking at me, and he had every intention of actually getting himself off there in the steam room. As fucking hot as that is, more than once I've had a bare foot land in someone else's jizz load left on the tile floor of the steam room. Not hot at all. Gross, in fact. It's just messy sticky crud at that point. My eyes were wide open, and openly staring at him. When I looked to his face, we made eye contact. I couldn't help but keep on staring. At some point my own hand and gripped my thick cock and was stroking as well. It was a little disturbing to me that I couldn't pinpoint the exact time I started beating off. But that didn't stop me, and my married man was only speeding up, getting closer to cumming. He'd also shifted his body and was sitting much closer to me. I spread my legs a big further to let my balls hand down freely and in doing so, my knee touched against his. That was enough for me to almost shoot my own load, but I managed to get myself quickly back under control. When I looked back at him, he was smiling at me: he knew the effect he'd had on me! It's not like I wasn't producing a similar reaction with him, not like he didn't also know that: we were two men staring at each other stroking our cocks. It looked like two separate activities going on, or would have looked like that, but our knees were still touching and in fact our feet and calves were now against each other as well. He leaned his head back, still looking at me, and stroked even faster. I knew he was about to shoot and honestly, mess or no mess on the steam room floor, so was I. But that's when he stood up, took just the one step required to be directly in front of me, and put his had on the back of my head. With his other hand, he guided his cock to my face and pushed at least a couple of inches of it past my lips and into my mouth. I reacted to the surprise by trying to back away, but his hand held my head firmly in place. He stroked the part of his cock not inside my mouth once or twice and started shooting. I felt the first volley hit the back of my throat, but I didn't gag or try to pull away again: I let it happen. Another blast hit the back of my throat again, and then he slid his cock back so that only the head was in my mouth. By the time he was done shooting, 4 or 5 more ropes of cum had landed on my tongue. I didn't move, just looked up at him. He finally withdrew his cock, removed his hand from the back of my head and used it to close my mouth. "Swallow," he said in a low voice. The commanding presence in his voice had me doing so before I realized I had done it. This produced a huge grin on his handsome face, making him all the more attractive. "Woulda been rude to make a mess on the floor in here," he said. I reached out for his cock, but he gently pushed my had aside. He turned and then walked out of the steam room leaving me with a painfully erect cock and the taste of his married-man semen still on my tongue.