Date: Fri, 29 Jan 2021 16:08:16 -0800
From: Jim Foster
Subject: After It Closed (gay/masturbation)

After it closed
by Jim Foster

The gym exuded a sickly pallor. Fluorescent lights imbued the main exercise
room with an anemic glow. Banks of half a dozen TV screens added disjointed
animation to the setting -- a car commercial, an overhyped superhero film,
MSNBC talking heads, static -- but little else. Outside, darkness
beckoned. The sun had set hours ago, and the beacon from a lone, yellowed
streetlamp revealed rain falling in sheets.

Atop a stair machine, I took in the scene with a sigh. I live in a big city
at a high latitude. This close to the winter solstice, I expect the days to
be short, dark and dreary. But expectation does not breed acceptance. I was
not eager to venture out into the deluge for a long, damp bus ride home --
yet my gym wasn't exactly projecting coziness for the present, either. Too
much time and unpleasantness had to pass before I could be home and curled
up in bed.

I have the sort of mind that can easily get pulled in to the doldrums. As I
stepped -- without actually climbing -- I tried to fight it by giving
myself credit for showing up. I'm an inconsistent exerciser. But I have
faith that these efforts, even if they don't give me a beautifully sculpted
torso, bear fruit for my mind, body and spirit.

Overhead, the harsh PA system crackled: "Folks, we close in 30
minutes. Please wrap up your workouts. The gym closes in 30 minutes."

"Folks..." I chuckled. It had been 20 minutes since I'd seen anyone who
wasn't an employee. My gym serves a lot of students and staff at a nearby
university. But their winter break had kicked off a few days ago. Hardly
anyone was around. Staff members were trickling out. I think only two or
three would stay to get the stragglers out and lock the doors.

Movement off to my left startled me. I turned and saw a young man enter
from the weight room. He wore black shorts and a dark green tank-top. We
were about 30 feet apart -- it's a big room -- but to my surprise he was
looking at me. I had been half-smirking, as I often do when my mind
wanders. He held up a hand and waved politely. I had just enough time to
wave back before I stumbled on the stair machine. He smiled and averted his
gaze.

"Mutual embarrassment," I told myself, turning red. It was too late to
avoid feeling like an idiot, but I managed to steady myself for the last
few minutes of my climb.

The man moved to a bank of elliptical machines about 15 feet off to my
right. His gaze was oriented toward a far wall, but he could face me if he
turned his head left. Still embarrassed, I kept eyes pointed straight
ahead, but a few times I caught him looking at me. Once, I returned the
gaze and he nodded.

He looked familiar. But from where? My heart fluttered a little -- a
sensation I instinctively tried to bury as I kept climbing. Sure, he's
attractive and he's noticing me. But nothing's going to come of this. In 30
minutes the gym will be shut and I'll be soaking wet at a bus stop.

After about 10 minutes, with my legs considerably more wobbly, I
surrendered to the stair machine's giant STOP button. The top half of my
shirt was soaked through with sweat. The cute guy was still on the
elliptical -- well, let's face it: He was more than cute. And I was
suddenly conscious of how my shirt revealed my early-40s office-worker
physique of slight belly, love handles and noticeable, but still small, man
boobs. I wiped sweat from my forehead, tousling my mop of hair in the
process, and left without looking at him. It bothered me that I couldn't
place him.

The women's locker room was already shut with the lights out. In the men's
locker room down the hall, three muscle jocks were heading out, chatting
about football. I was bored just listening to them.

The locker room is dominated by a large, rectangular main section with 12
rows of lockers. At one end is an open shower and a short hallway that
leads to a smaller section with four rows of lockers.

My locker was in that isolated area in the back. I was told that, long ago,
the university had owned this gym. The main area had been for students,
with the smaller, more private section reserved for faculty. Now as a
private gym, lockers were assigned at random. I just happened to get one in
the back when I joined years ago. I wouldn't have minded had they assigned
me to the main area, even though it would mean a longer, more public walk
to the shower. Feelings about my appearance may have led me out of the
workout room quickly, but for some reason, as an adult, I've always enjoyed
the freedom of walking around naked in a locker room. I don't make a show
of it. But I don't bother wrapping one of their thin towels around my waist
either.

The only other person in the locker room was an older man in the main
section, who was dressing and packing up his bag. Over by my locker, I
peeled my shirt off, pulled out my phone and responded to a few urgent work
emails that weren't actually urgent. Then I texted with my husband, who was
out of town.

"How are things over there?"

"Okay. Mom seems better. It's tiring, though. How's the gym?"

"Empty, thank God. I'll bet it's exhausting there. You heading to bed
soon?"

"Yeah. Got a few minutes?"

"Sure!"

He called and we talked for about five minutes. Near the end of our
conversation, out of the corner of my eye I saw the guy wearing a tank-top
pass by and heard him open a locker in the next row.

"Everything okay?" my husband asked.

"Oh yeah. I was just distracted," I confessed.

"I'll bet. It's a locker room after all," he joked.

I chuckled.

"I wish you were here," I offered. I meant every word of it.

"I know. Me too. It's been stressful here and I miss you," he said.

"Well, you'll be back in a week. And it's good that you're there to help
her," I said.

"Yeah... Well, I'm starting to drift off here. You probably need to get
going too! They're about to kick you out probably," he said.

"Yeah. I love you," I said.

"Love you too. Goodnight."

The PA crackled: "The gym closes in ten minutes, everyone. Ten minutes."

Off in the distance, I heard a locker door slam and saw the ceiling lights
go out in the main section. The older man must have left and hit the lights
on his way out. Fumbling, I undid a knot in my sneakers, kicked them off
and then dropped my shorts. Naked, I caught a whiff of my generous, full
bush -- I don't shave what body hair I have -- and grinned. I love how my
body smells when I sweat. I shoved my dirty clothes and shoes in my gym bag
and grabbed my towel and soap. I felt suddenly rushed, fearing that I was
being rude to the gym staff.

I darted toward the showers and nearly collided with the more-than-cute
guy, who was naked except for a towel around his waist. We both swerved
just in time -- me off to the left, and him to the right, sideswiping the
doorway that leads to the shower. I had dropped my towel and soap. His
shampoo bottle rolled into the shower bay.

Neither of us said anything at first. With one hand he steadied himself on
the doorframe, and with the other he held his towel secure around his
waist. The smell of his sweat mixed with my own -- musky, pleasant, a
little sweet.

He was even hotter than I had realized. He had a trim build and
well-defined torso with very little chest hair. It was pretty obvious he
worked out regularly. His face was clean-shaven and expressive. I could
tell that he could, and probably did, flirt using only his eyes. I had
definitely seen him before, but couldn't for the life of me place where.

As I drank this in, I was mad at myself. I figured he would also be mad at
me. I had to say something.

"I am so sorry," I said. "Are you okay??"

Instead of anger, he grinned and looked down.

"Yes... yes, I'm fine," he said. "That was close."

I walked into the shower area and fetched his shampoo. When I returned he
was holding my towel and soap. I cursed to myself. He was obviously
avoiding my gaze because I was naked. From what I could see, my legs, arms,
crotch and ass were much more hairy than his, but I wasn't nearly as toned
or fit. My normal exuberance about nudity in the locker room was nowhere to
be seen.

"I'm so sorry," I repeated, handing him the shampoo as he returned my
soap. I decided to try my old standby: self-deprecation.

"I guess I'm just a klutz tonight?" I offered.

He laughed -- the sort of bright, authentic laugh that's hard to fake. It
killed my tension.

"Yes, you were in good form out there on the stair machine," he said.

I realized he was still holding my towel.

"You sure you're okay?" I asked.

"Oh yes, just startled," he said. "I'm Ty. What's your name?"

"Eddie," I replied. I instinctively offered my free hand like this was a
business meeting, and then blushed. He glanced up at me, then back down and
put my towel in my hand.

"You'll be needing this, I guess," Ty said. "Which reminds me: I forgot my
soap."

He turned and went back to his locker. It suddenly occurred to me that when
he was looking down, he may not have been disgusted with my appearance. He
may have been embarrassed at himself.

There were no individual shower stalls -- just three rows of metal poles
running from floor to ceiling, each with four shower heads. I chose one in
a back corner. That way, Ty could choose one as far from me he wanted. I
turned on the water and waited for it to heat up. As I stepped into the
spray I heard his locker door shut again.

I was rinsing my hair when I sensed someone behind me. I half turned and
saw Ty pass me, set his soap and shampoo on the tray with mine and turn on
the shower head next to me. He undid his towel and hung it from one of the
hooks in the wall.

I hadn't expected this and was suddenly nervous again. But not blind. His
back and both legs sported an array of tattoos running from just below his
shoulder blades to just above his knees. His ass -- hairless, supple and
adorable -- was inkless and untouched. I couldn't get a better glimpse
because he turned around and walked back to the shower. As he stepped under
the stream I caught a glimpse of his soft, cut cock in a neat nest of pubic
hair.

I had no idea what to do, so I kept my head under the stream as if I was
waiting for the water to wash my hair away.

"This is okay, right?" Ty asked. "Figured it was better than trying to
shout across the room."

"Oh, right," I said, pulling my head out of the stream. "Totally fine."

My heart felt like it was going to pound its way out of my chest.

"If it makes you feel any better, after you left the workout room I nearly
fell off the elliptical," he said.

I managed a grin and started soaping my body. Ty was washing his hair.

"Yeah, it does," I said, with a little more courage.

"Do you usually come to the gym this late?" he asked.

"No, not usually," I replied. "I'm a bachelor for the next week because my
husband is out of town. So between that, the holidays and the short days
I'm shifting my schedule around."

My rashness almost made me gasp. I couldn't believe I just offered that I
was "a bachelor" to a near stranger. Ty smirked and rinsed his hair.

"Is that who you were talking to earlier?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said. "He's helping his mom, who isn't in very good health."

"What a good son!" said Ty, with sudden earnestness. "It also sounds like
he's getting a lot of support from you."

"I guess so," I shrugged. "I'd offered to go with him, but he thought he
could handle it this round. We know there will be plenty of other
opportunities."

Ty soaped up his body and I couldn't help but let my gaze wander when he
had his head down. I had finished washing my body, but I took my time
rinsing off.

We were silent for a few moments and the PA clicked on again: "The gym
closes in five minutes. Five minutes until closing."

I was about to turn off the water when Ty spoke up.

"So, I knew you looked familiar but it took me a minute to recall," said
Ty. "I've seen you at the Club."

My hand fell to my side and my heart skipped a beat. The Club. It's the
unofficial shorthand for the thriving jack-off club in our city. Three
times a month in an artist's studio south of downtown, the Club hosts a
group jack-off event for members: a four-hour window during which guys can
show up, strip down, masturbate together, make out, touch each other, cum,
repeat as much as we'd like and go home satisfied.

"Oh!" I finally said. "I..."

"I hope I'm not being too forward," said Ty. "We haven't played together
there or anything. I just remember seeing you."

"Well, for what it's worth, you definitely looked familiar to me too," I
said. "I just hadn't put it together."

"It's no problem," he smiled, turning off the water. I did as well and we
went to our towels on neighboring pegs.

I felt more at ease. Somehow knowing that we'd been at Club events together
made it feel more natural to be naked around Ty. As we dried off, I learned
more about him. He worked at the university as a lecturer. I told him about
my job as an editor.

When we walked back to our lockers, neither of us bothered putting our
towels on. Ty turned off the switch in the shower area. The only light came
from our small section of the locker room. As we dressed in separate
alcoves, we kept talking. Ty was single, about to turn 30, fostered cats
and lived alone in an apartment about a mile away. He once considered
becoming a Lutheran pastor. I mentioned that my husband and I bought a
condo five miles north a few years ago. Last month I turned 40, I told him,
and was surprisingly fine with it. He laughed.

I was tying my shoes when I heard a door slam. Startled I stood up and
walked through the darkened main section of the locker room. Ty, dressed
but barefoot, followed me. When we got to the set of double doors
connecting the locker room with the rest of the gym, we saw that someone
had shut them. We opened one. The darkened gym stretch out before
us. Through a distant window, a car pull away. The staff had left without
realizing we were still there.

"Shit," I said. "Are we locked in?"

"Well, yes and no," said Ty. "We could get out through any of the emergency
exits, if need be, though it would set off alarms and the security
system. We could also call the police to come let us out or we could call
the gym manager. I know where they keep her number posted behind the front
desk."

"How do you know all this?" I asked.

"Years ago when I was in school, I used to work here -- front desk clerk,
equipment check-out, stuff like that," said Ty. "So I know this place very
well. I know why they didn't realize we were here. Our alcove is back in
the corner, where it's hard to see -- and the lights were out in the shower
and main locker area."

"That makes sense," I said. "So should we call the manager so we won't set
off any alarms?"

"Here, we can use the emergency exit back here," said Ty. "I know how to
silence the alarm on that door."

While chatting, we had walked back to our small section of the locker room
and Ty pointed to an emergency exit door I'd never noticed before. A faded
sign said "Emergency Exit: Alarm will sound!" Ty opened the door a crack
and quickly pressed a button in the doorframe.

"See this? It's one of the older models of emergency exit doors," he
explained. "There's a delay of a few seconds before the alarm sounds, and
pressing this button silences it. They don't make doors like this anymore,
and most of the others have been replaced and tied into the building
security system. But this one never was. When I worked here, some of the
male employees would open the door, tape down this button to sneak outside
for a cigarette."

"So, we're good leaving through that door?" I asked.

"Yes, and all we have to do is hold the button down," Ty said. "When we
shut it from the outside, the alarm won't go off and we'll be free!"

"That's a relief," I said. "You'd think they'd be more careful."

"It's not the first time it has happened to me here," said Ty. "I often
work out just before they close and I'd say a couple of times a year they
forget to check back here."

"God, that sucks," I said.

"Nah, not since I know about this trick," said Ty. Then, with a smirk, he
added, "Plus, it gives me some time..."

My heart skipped a beat.

"Time for what?" I asked, hoping I was right about the answer.

He looked down at the floor and then let his eyes drift upward again,
meeting mine.

"To jerk off in here -- in the locker room," he said.

Ty had his hands in his pockets, but I thought I saw his right hand move
slightly, drawing my attention to the bulge in his jeans.

My face was flushed with desire. I wasn't aroused -- though I wanted to
be. I wanted our sudden intimacy, but it also made me nervous. I forced
myself not to decline out of fear, or even change the subject. I wanted to
stay with him in this moment and see where it would lead us.

"Nice," I offered. "Do you like jerking off in places like this?"

"Yeah, I guess I do," said Ty. "It's fun to be in here and think about all
the guys who come through here -- think of their bodies, their dicks, their
desires. This is a den of masculinity. What could be more natural in here?"

I thought of how I enjoyed being naked in the locker room. Ty had a point.

Before I could reply, he took one hand out of his pocket and squeezed his
bulge.

"I think I'm going to tonight, actually," Ty said.

I was hoping he would say that, yet suddenly my mouth was dry. I swallowed
hard.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said. "Want to join me?"

He took off his shirt and held it in one hand.

"It's okay if you don't," said Ty. "You can leave. But I've liked sharing
this time with you. I'd like to keep... getting to know you."

It was hard for me to find words, but I managed a smirk and felt my face
turn crimson. I nodded slowly, but wasn't sure what to do next.

Ty dropped his shirt to the floor and held out both hands.

"Come here," he beckoned.

I took his hands and he pulled me slowly into an embrace. I wrapped my arms
around his torso. Though I was still flushed, touching him -- and being
touched -- relaxed me. I felt his arms and hands on my back. I rested my
head on his shoulder, and he did the same. After a few moments, I raised my
head, he did as well and I looked into his eyes. The flirtatious spark was
gone and had been replaced with a serious, piercing gaze and a wry smile. I
smiled back and we kissed. Once. Twice. The third time we made out. His
moans echoed through the locker room.

Ty pulled away and reached down, tugging at my shirt. I had just enough
time to raise my arms as he pulled it over my head. For a moment I felt
suddenly cold, but we stood next to a heating vent, warming me back up.

"You are so sexy, Eddie," he said.

I was surprised, given our different body types. I fought the urge to
mentally reject his compliment.

Ty unbuckled my belt and unzipped my jeans, but didn't lower my
pants. Instead, he ran his hands around my back and lowered them into my
loosened jeans. He squeezed my ass through my underwear. We kissed again.

"So are you, Ty," I said, between kisses. I fondled his nipples and he
moaned into my mouth. Suddenly, from behind I felt the cool, dextrous touch
of his bare hands on my ass. He had slipped them beneath my underwear. I
felt simultaneously exposed and accepted as he fondled my ass, and sighed
contentedly.

"Get undressed," said Ty. "I'll be right back."

He turned and went toward his locker. I kicked off my shoes and lowered my
pants and underwear. I couldn't see Ty but I heard him unbuckle his pants
and the unmistakable swoosh as they hit the floor. I also heard him unzip
his bag and he returned with a small bottle of lube.

Ty stood before me fully hard, with what looked like 6 or 7 inches pointing
straight out. Looking at me, he dribbled lube on his dick and started
stroking with one hand. With the other, he held the bottle up.

"Always be prepared," he said. "Want some?"

I was growing rapidly, from semi- to fully hard. I nodded and he stepped
forward, pouring a thin stream of lube down my shaft. Then, before I could
say anything, he set the bottle on the bench next to us and used his free
hand to stroke me to full hardness.

I moaned at the sudden burst of pleasure. His grip was so slick and
attentive to the underside of my shaft that I nearly came. I gently pushed
his hand aside.

"Not yet," I half-sighed. "You're almost too good."

"Sorry, buddy," he said grinning.

We stood there silently stroking ourselves. Ty switched hands frequently
and used whichever hand was his "spare" to rub his chest, neck, shoulders,
arms and balls. It gave his masturbation a distinctive, full-bodied
rhythm. Suddenly, I realized I'd seen it before.

"You know, I remember you now," I said. "At the Club. You'd always have
three or four guys around you and you're all jacking off together. When one
of them would get close, you'd get on your knees and they'd shoot on you."

Ty looked down at the floor. I realized that really was a nervous gesture
of his.

"Yeah," he said, drawing his gaze back up to mine. "I guess I love being at
the center of a group, and having everyone use me as a cum target."

He slowed his stroking and looked down again. I didn't want Ty to feel
sheepish -- or for this show to end. Instinctively, I reached out with my
free hand and placed it on the back of his neck, touching my forehead to
his.

"Hey, it's okay, Ty," I said earnestly, taking his dick in my hand and
stroking it slowly. "I was just excited to finally remember you. I loved
seeing you like that."

He perked up and kissed me.

"I remember you too," he said. "I always thought you looked cute. You're
always smelling your pits, or sometimes another guy's. Your husband's?"

"Nah, he doesn't come to the Club -- not his thing," I said, still stroking
Ty. "He doesn't care that I go, though."

"That's hot," Ty said, and we made out again.

I brought my dick up next to his and closed my fist around both of them. Ty
moaned and his head fell back. I kissed his neck and felt him raise his
arms behind his head. I could smell him. He was clean from the shower, but
his pits still exuded a musky odor that made my dick swell in my slick
grip.

"Go on, Eddie," he said. "Go on..."

I sniffed and licked each of his pits, causing Ty to whimper and shudder
with pleasure. I used both hands now to pump our cocks together. His
breathing became heavier and his legs trembled.

"I have to sit down," he gasped, pulling away.

"Of course," I said. "We're both tired from the workout."

"Yeah, and this is just fucking intense -- in the best way possible," he
said, moving to a long bench in my row.

Ty straddled the bench and sat down, with one leg on each side. I did the
same and faced him. We applied more lube and resumed stroking our cocks. I
breathed deeply and took in the view of Ty's gorgeous body, playful grin
and relaxed but engaging gaze. Time stretched out. I watched him rub sweat
and lube across his chest. We would occasionally lean in to make out. At
one point, I raised my arms and smelled my pits while Ty stroked my cock
and teased my nipples. I returned the favor, stroking him while licking his
nipples. We smiled, laughed and hugged.

Without thinking, I stood up and moved behind Ty, sitting back down and
wrapping my arms around his chest. He leaned back -- resting his body
against my chest. Ty turned his head and we kissed. I ran my hands across
his chest and stomach. He used both hands to stroke his dick faster.

I felt his breathing increase and his gaze became soft.

Ty opened his mouth to say something, but he emitted only a slow,
continuous moan. I felt his body start to tense. I could smell and taste
the sweetness of his breath and the musk from his body.

"Come on, Ty," I said. "Do it."

I teased his nipples with one hand, while my other hand cupped his balls.

Ty gasped, breathing deep. I looked down and saw his cock pump cum down his
shaft and all over his pubes. His dick kept pulsating, and within seconds
his crotch was a wonderful mess of sticky semen. Its scent filled the air
around us and my own cock swelled in response.

I felt his body relax and wrapped my arms around him in a secure
embrace. Ty brought his arms up to mine and squeezed them, kissing my neck.

"Thank you," he sighed into my ear.

"My pleasure," I said.

"Not fully and not yet," he said. "Here, let me lay back. Stand over me."

With some awkwardness, we negotiated positions on the bench. I stood up and
Ty lowered himself back. He raised his arms overhead and grabbed the bench
to steady himself with his legs firmly on the floor. He motioned for me to
straddle the bench over him -- with my ass just above his sticky, softening
cock and my own hard dick pointing straight at his torso.

"I want your load on me, Eddie," he said.

I didn't need any encouragement. Jacking my cock, I used my free hand to
tease my nipples and stroke my balls. Ty's gaze ran up an down my body, his
moans encouraging me to show and share my full manhood.

"Come on, Eddie," he said. "Cum all over me."

I gazed down at my body and then his. My heart was racing and my breathing
quick but deep. It was hard to think of us as separate. As my pleasure
built, I wanted to be closer. I bent my knees slightly, pausing with my
crotch just above his. Without any prompting from me, Ty raised himself up
on one elbow and used his free arm to rub my chest and stomach.

"Yeah, Eddie," he said. "You're so fucking gorgeous. Keep going... keep
going..."

Without warning, the waves of pleasure that had been building crested. I
saw stars and felt my cock -- firm and proud -- pump rope after rope of cum
onto Ty's chest and belly. With the first two volleys, Ty closed his eyes
and moaned. With the third, fourth and fifth shots, he opened his eyes and
looked in disbelief his dripping body.

"Damn, Eddie," he said, grinning. "Fuck, that's hot..."

I looked down too, just as the scent of my cum reached my nostrils. The
forest of tattoos on his thighs stopped just where his briefs line would
be. Above that, the area from his crotch to his neck was a mess of cum. It
ran down his body in streaks, dripping onto the bench and the floor.

I felt Ty's eyes on me, and I blushed, looking off to one side. I fought
the urge to feel sheepish about what we had just done. Conversation seemed
like the best way.

"Thanks, Ty," I said. "You know, I don't normally cum that much. I guess
you brought out the best in me."

He raised his free arm and I pulled him to his feet. More cum ran off his
body and dripped to the bench with a heavy "plop." Ty kissed me lightly on
the lips. I felt a rush of companionship and embraced him, pressing our
bodies together. We wrapped our arms around each other.

"Thank you, Eddie," he whispered.

"You too, Ty," I replied.

We showered together again, this time casually -- conversing, laughing,
flirting. He washed my back and I, at Ty's request, washed his entire
body. I spent some time admiring his tattoos, which were a complex pattern
of interconnected squares, rectangles, circles and triangles -- all in
thick black lines. They took up almost his entire back, ending just at the
waistline, and covered the front and back of his thighs, ending just above
the knees.

"I actually started right in the middle of my back about eight years ago,
with those diamond patterns. I just kept going."

"They're pretty hot. Will you keep it up?"

"Oh yes. I already have three appointments for the coming year to do both
legs down to the ankle."

"And after that?"

"Probably the shoulder blades, then I'll get started on the arms."

"What about your torso?"

"I don't know. I've not yet decided. Have you ever thought about getting a
tattoo?"

"Oh yes. I've even thought of some designs. I just don't really know how to
pick an artist."

"The studio I go to has six artists, all different styles. We could get
together sometime and look at their portfolios together, if you want."

It'd been the first time I thought about what would happen after tonight. I
blushed.

Ty must have noticed.

"I mean, if you want to hang out sometime," he said, gazing downward.

I walked into his spray and wrapped my arms around him.

"I would," I said. "I was just wondering how to broach that subject. I've
never started a friendship like this."

"I figured," he said. "I've a few friendships like this, though they've all
started at the Club -- not the gym."

We chuckled and switched off the water. Drying off, we dressed, wiped off
the bench and pitched our towels in the hamper. I checked the time. We'd
been there for an hour.

"Jeez, no wonder I shot so much," I said. "We must've been going at it for
30 or 45 minutes."

"No wonder I'm so tired, then!" said Ty. "You good to get home?"

"Yeah, I know the late bus schedule. There's one coming in 10 minutes."

"Well, my place is on the way. Can I walk you to the stop?"

"Sure."

I held the emergency door open with the button pressed while Ty flipped off
the lights. He slipped through the doorway behind me -- squeezing my ass in
the process. I released the button, let the door slam and we were out in
the alley under a light mist.

"This was fun," I said. "I'm glad we did it."

"Me too," said Ty.

"It's too bad I don't usually work out this late," I offered.

"Well, they don't usually lock us in like this," Ty said. "Plus, while it's
fun now and then, I prefer jerking off with a buddy at the Club."

"How often do you go?" I asked.

"About once a month," he said. "You?"

"Same."

"You should let me know when you go," Ty said. "Maybe we can meet up there
and have coffee afterward or something."

"I'd like that," I said. I really did. "It's a great group and I'm so glad
I stumbled upon it."

"Me too," said Ty. "Though it's not the only time I meet up to jack off
with friends. I also invite them over to my place."

My cock stirred.

"That sounds lovely," I said.

"You'd be welcome anytime," Ty said.

"How often does it happen?" I asked, honestly curious but also getting
aroused.

Ty paused.

"I guess as often as it needs to," he said. "When I'm with a like-minded
buddy and we're both amenable to it, we do it. Sometimes just 10 or 15
minutes before we do something else. Sometimes for hours. Whenever we need
to, you know?"

"Yeah, I see..." I replied.

We were at the bus stop. If it was on time, we had about three minutes. We
exchanged cell numbers, email addresses and connected on Facebook.

"I hope you like cat pictures," I said, falling into my old, disparaging
patterns.

"Well, I do," he said. "But I also like you."

A few blocks down from us, my bus turned into view.

"Thanks, Ty," I said. "Really. I'm glad we're connected."

He kissed me on the cheek.

"Me too," Ty said with a wink.

He turned and was gone.

My bus pulled up. I boarded, paid and sat down, settling in for the
20-minute ride to my neighborhood. I let my head lean against the window
and gave myself a warm, inconspicuous hug.

Nearly home, my phone chimed. It was a photo of Ty -- home, completely
naked and hard.

"I'm going at it again thanks to you, Eddie. Next time at my place?"

"Yup. Next time, buddy."

I smiled, saved the photo to my phone and pulled the cord for my stop. The
bus pulled up to the curb and I sprang off into a stream of moderate
rain. Overhead was a starless ceiling of low clouds. The streets were
empty. I walked along the edge of the curve with my arms outstretched like
a tightrope walker to balance myself. I wasn't very successful -- one hand
still carried my gym bag while my work bag was slung over my shoulder -- so
I stumbled chuckling onto a patch of wet grass. Reaching home, I skipped up
the steps and fished out my keys.

My cat greeted me as I walked in. I gave her a quick pet and fed her --
that was her real priority. I put my bags away and threw my dirty gym
clothes into the hamper. Their sweaty odor unleashed a torrent of memories
from the last hour: the sound of his voice as we talked in the shower, the
sweet and musky taste of his breath, the warm and firm feel of his cock in
my hand, the rank smell of his pits, and the sight of him drenched in cum.

I squeezed the growing bulge in my crotch and sensed it was time again. In
the bedroom, I undressed quickly. Naked and growing hard, I texted Ty.

"And now it's my turn for another round. Thanks, buddy."

"Awesome! Glad you could join me for a second time tonight."

With a smirk, I rolled onto my bed and reached for the lube.

THE END