Date: Tue, 6 Feb 2007 02:11:36 -0600
From: M B <argonical@gmail.com>
Subject: Ben and the Workout

Ben Ball was a strapping young college student, 20 years old, 5'9'' with a
mop of black hair, shaggy sideburns, and a lean body that he liked to try
and define with tight shirts. He had a small pale face and dark eyes, and
he loved working out every night at the university's recreation center.

It became a routine when the semester began. Ben had tired of being the
skinny lanky kid he always was and was always made fun of for in high
school. He wanted muscles like the guys on sports teams and at the gym. His
small frame frustrated him as it was hard to build muscle onto it.

However, a starker frustration appeared for Ben when he finally realized
yesterday, he didn't want muscles just for himself, and he didn't simply
admire muscles on other guys for their strength and ability. He wanted
them. He wanted strong muscled arms to wrap around his light naked body and
press him against a smooth rock hard torso, breathing and sweating with a
large reassuring hand cupping behind his head to hold him close.

Ben had found it harder and harder to contain himself when he went to the
rec. He purchased extra tight boxer-briefs weeks before to stifle the
constant 5 inch erections that just happened to pop up whenever a
well-defined bull walked by and worked on sculpting his body.

"Yo Ben," one of them called to him as he sat down at a leg curl bench and
started working his blonde hairy tree stumps, flexing under the weights as
he lifted his powerful defined legs.

Ben watched this carefully as he stood with his 15 pound dumbbells and
worked his biceps, quickly and nervously. He watched Michael with intense
satisfaction as he worked up a sweat. Michael Bowey came to the gym as
regularly as Ben did. They had grown accustomed to each other's presence,
each other's musk, the banal conversations that danced around school,
music, and sex. Michael often spotted for Ben, and liked to help the little
guy work his muscles.

"Hey Michael man, I got a question," Ben panted. "You got a girlfriend
man?"

Michael puffed out his cheeks and lifted an excessively large weight with
his legs. He lowered it carefully to a resting position. "No."

"Oh." Ben lifted and dropped, lifted and dropped. "That's cool man."

They worked in silence for a moment and Michael wiped his sweaty thick neck
where some of his curly blonde hair tickled him. "Never really something I
cared about. Girls can be bitches."

Ben didn't have a response and his pulse quickened. He couldn't tell if it
was from lifting or from the insatiable curiosity that piqued at the
thought of why a guy like Michael didn't have a girlfriend and never cared.

"You've been working those legs for a while man," Ben started. He dropped
his arms for the last time with the weights and felt the dull soreness. He
was done, and placed the weights back on the rack.

"Yeah, I think I'm done too. I just needed to kill some frustration. I had
a real awkward moment with my roommate."

"Oh yeah? What happened man?"

Michael brought one of his legs up on the bench and his gym shorts slid
back like curtains revealing more of his thick thighs where the hair
darkened. "It's kind of embarrassing," he made a short disinterested
laugh. "I mean my roommate walked in on me jackin' it."

Ben laughed nervously. "Oh shit man... that's great."

"No it was bad!" the blonde said laughing. "He didn't even get out right
away. He just said `oh sorry man, I just need to get something, I'll be
gone in two seconds,' and then he lingered looking for something in his
desk for a good thirty seconds while I'm holding my piece."

Ben made an astonished face. "Dude, man, when you walk in on another guy,
the proper response is to just immediately bolt out the door and run
away... man."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

"Man, he probably just wanted to scam on your nuts or something man."

Michael laughed. "Yeah, probably, fucking fag. I didn't even get to
finish."

"Aw man, got the blue balls?"

"Yeah, pretty bad. Thought I'd come here and work myself up again."

Ben looked around at the rest of the secluded workout room, taking a quick
second to notice himself in the reflection of the wall mirrors. He was
sweaty, red in the face, and his black stubble around his jaw-line and chin
made him look worse, yet he was still attractive in his cute skinny scruffy
way. He watched Michael in the reflection rubbing his legs behind him. It
was almost midnight and they were alone.

"Yeah man, I think I worked myself up too," Ben said. He turned around and
watched Michael in the flesh. He was an attractive guy and Ben was
noticing. A wave of panic washed over him and crashed down into his crotch.

Michael looked up. "What do you mean?"

Ben coughed and picked up another weight, "I mean I worked out a lot, I
think I just made myself tired man." He toyed with a ten pound weight with
his right arm.

"I thought you were done," Michael asked suspiciously.

Ben looked at the weight and quickly put it back, "Yeah yeah man, no I'm
done."

Michael smirked. "Ben, what's the deal?" He brought his other leg up to the
bench and the shiny blue gym shorts on that side slid back as well,
revealing his thighs far down. At this point a guy would normally quickly
adjust and pull the shorts back up to their knees, but instead Michael
simply spread his legs just a little.

Ben was huffing now, not from exhaustion, but from Michael's inviting odor.

Michael brought a hand to his leg and tugged at some of the blonde hairs,
"Hah, you know, I should just take care of myself here. Why walk back to my
dorm, this place is pretty much closed now."

Ben looked around the empty room of exercise equipment. "Yeah..." he felt
himself say.

"Yeah?" Michael echoed incredulously. "What, you a fag too?"

"What the fuck man," Ben got defensive, puffing up. "You're the one talking
about beating it in here."

"Only cause I can tell you wanna see me do it, fag."

Ben panicked more. The word stuck in him. He knew he was a faggot. He
wanted Michael to do it, to whip it out, to stroke it, to let him stroke
it, to let him suck it, to grapple with him, and wrap his legs around him
and feel him and let him slide his cock against his own ass-

"I'm gonna do it then," Michael said. He grabbed one side of his shorts
like he was going to readjust it to his knee like guys normally did, but
instead pulled it back towards himself and leaned back on the inclined
bench, suddenly casting fluorescent light on a familiar hardening organ.

Ben was completely unprepared for the sight, but he stared deer-eyed as
Michael fondled his cock, getting himself up.

"Fuck this," Michael said annoyed, "You should be doing this, with the way
you're looking at it. Fuck, you are a faggot."

Ben didn't say anything and nervously brushed the sweaty mop of hair aside
from his brows, but it didn't help. He felt his legs move and the muscles
jolt and spasm until he was stepping slowly toward Michael, falling down
onto his knees before him at the bench. Ready to pray.

Michael smirked and decided he'll simply pull his gym shorts down, lifting
his ass to pull the band to his knees. "You suck too?"

Ben didn't know what to say. "Yeah man. I suck."

Michael was fully hard now, and it stood at least 7 inches. He was cut and
throbbing and glorious. Ben found his hand wrapping around it, tugging on
it, until he was close to it with his lips.

Michael sighed and pulled up his sleeveless shirt to his neck so he could
rub his nipple on his smooth defined chest. "That's it."

Ben's lips kissed the head and he slipped further down. It felt strange and
foreign, being his first time sucking cock. The taste wasn't what he
expected, just a salty skin taste. It enamored him and soon he was
devouring it, shoving it back into his throat like discovering something
new and delicious. He bobbed and weaved and swirled his tongue around the
head just like he'd want done to himself.

"Fuck man," Michael crooned. "I can tell this isn't gonna last long. I
might make you do it twice."

Ben grunted and jerked his head back and forth, back and forth, until he
plunged and buried his nose in the trimmed blonde pubes with their underarm
smell. He was surprisingly adept at controlling his gag reflex as the thick
head slipped past his tonsils. He repeated the plunge several more times
and Michael gasped and grabbed Ben's shaggy hair, forcing him back down
again and again.

"You swallow? Yeah you do, cum slut."

Ben gagged as he tried to say something, everything in his throat clasping
around the thick invading cock.

"Yeah gag on that shit, fuck."

Ben felt a change, Michael's hand shook on his head with each dive, his
knuckles tightened and the grip on his hair grew painful. He knew what was
happening and his heart raced and his own cock throbbed in his boxer
briefs.

"Fucking swallow it."

Ben gagged hard when an eruption of spunk drowned his throat and Michael
groaned. It came again and again in waves, his gulping didn't keep up and
his entire mouth filled and he had to pull off.

A last spurt of cum shot onto Ben's neck and his first instinct was to spit
the left over cum in his mouth out onto the floor.

"Yeah that's it," Michael growled through his teeth. "Fucking cum eater."
He slapped his cock against Ben's cheek with three quick taps as pearls
oozed out the tip and smeared on his face.

Ben wiped his chin, satisfied and degraded.

"Clean it off." Michael grabbed his hair again.

Ben complied and put it back in, licking all around, searching for
stickiness with his tongue and coaxing leftovers out of the softening head.

Michael let go and Ben pulled off and rubbed his own throbbing dripping
cock in his shorts, feeling like he could shoot with just a few tugs.

The blonde handled his own cock for a moment, almost like he was inspecting
the work done on it. He noticed Ben touching himself. "Yeah, take care of
yourself," he said, sounding disparaging and encouraging at the same time.

Ben quickly pulled his shorts down and with a few strokes he shuddered and
grabbed Michael's hairy shin with his other hand and his five inches were
spewing onto the floor under the bench.

"Shit," Michael said, jerking his leg out from Ben's grip, mildly
disgusted. "That was fast. I got you pretty worked up I guess."

Ben nodded and his sweaty mop of hair shuddered with him as he finished it
out. "It's kind of a problem man," he finally said.

"Yeah no shit. Thank God you don't like girls. They would laugh their asses
off at you for shit like that. Hell, I'm laughing my ass off at you."

Ben reddened and hid his cock into his shorts, pulling them up. "Yeah yeah
man," he muttered.

Michael pulled himself off the bench, standing up and readjusting his
shorts. "All right, I'm jetting. You be here tomorrow night?"

It was more of a command than a question.

Ben nodded, "Yeah man. I'll be here man." He watched the tall muscled
blonde grab his wallet and keys from the floor, annoyed by the spurts of
cum that came dangerously close, and then he left.

Ben rested on his knees and licked his lips, still able to taste the dry
saltiness. He smirked and wiped the cum off his neck that had run in a
trail down to his tight shirt. He looked at the cream in his hand and
lunged for it with his tongue, devouring it. Then he fell on his hands and
burrowed his face in his own cum spurts, licking them off the stale Berber
carpet like a pig in a trough.

The door Michael left through quickly opened and an old Mexican lady in a
custodian's vest entered. She stopped at the sight of Ben eating cum off
the floor and shook her head. "Ay dios mio, not another."

***

There's more to it, more happened. Like it? Tell me. argonical@gmail.com