Tales From the Gym

by Roland Graeme

  After cleaning up quickly, Guy, Deke, and Antwan reported back to the set. They were just in time to witness the climax of Tex Ranger’s solo act.

  But in a way, it wasn’t a solo act. Tex was interacting with Orlando, or more precisely with Orlando’s camera. He was playing to the camera, which Orlando kept tightly focused on him, and he was addressing his unseen audience out there in cyberspace, talking dirty to the viewers.

  Tex was lying flat on his back on the yellow sheets with his legs raised, his buttocks parted, and the dildo jammed up his ass. He was masturbating, and his perspiring body and lubricated dick gleamed in the strong lighting. Most of the time, Orlando hovered so close to him that Tex could have reached out and touched him had he wanted to. There was, Guy thought, something weirdly intimate about it.

  “Oh, fuck!” Tex cried, staring directly into the camera lens. “That big dick is really filling me up! I can feel it stretching my ass hole wide open! Oh, fuck…oh, God! Ah, I really like to get fucked!”

  Guy didn’t doubt him. Not for a moment! Not with such irrefutable evidence right in front of his eyes.

  Tex suddenly took things to a different level. Grunting, tensing his abdominal muscles, he slowly and carefully eased the dildo out of his ass. He sucked in his breath sharply, in a gasp of relief, once he was free of it. But he immediately subjected himself once more to the anal ordeal. He sat up, and put the greased cock down on the floor beside the bed. The artificial prick had a suction base broad enough to hold it straight up in the air. Orlando immediately adjusted his position to keep Tex—and the dildo—in his shot. Tex once again looked right in the camera lens while he squatted down over that obscene-looking red implement jutting up from the floor.

  “All you guys out there, watching this—this is what I want you to do to me,” Tex said.

  “That’s right. I want you to fuck me! First with this dildo. Then with your dicks. Then with your fists, if you’re into that. Yeah, that’s what I want, a fist up my ass, an arm up my ass, all the way up to the elbow! To the shoulder, if you can cram it that far in there!”

  But for now, he had to content himself with the dildo, the head of which had already penetrated his sphincter. Groaning ecstatically, Tex lowered himself still more, forcing more of the thick, flexible red cock up into him. As he impaled himself, inch by inch, he was once again jerking himself off, nice and slow, so that Orlando’s camera could capture every nuance of his fist play. Tex seemed so turned on by what he was doing that there was a tiny rivulet of saliva running down his chin.

  He stared into the camera and resumed his lewd monologue.

  “That’s right,” he urged his audience. “Jerk that big hard dick of yours while I fuck myself on this one. Oh, I’m so fucking turned on…I don’t know how long I can hold it in, how long I can keep from coming. Why don’t we see if we can come together? Let’s see if we can both shoot at the same time.”

  Then, panting loudly and desperately for breath, and sweating profusely, he squatted lower and lower. He kept jerking on his dick, too, squeezing it roughly. When all of the dildo except for its very base was inside his hole, he closed his eyes with an expression of pure lust on his face that was so provocative it sent a corresponding shudder through Guy as he watched. Guy could only speculate about the effect Tex’s performance must be having on all of the horny men who were watching it in the privacy of their homes. There must be hundreds of them, thousands of them, all jerking off in front of their computer screens!

  “Fuck, oh fuck,” Guy heard Tex gasp. “Oh God, it’s stretching my ass wide open! It’s tearing me apart!”

  It was amazing for Guy to watch Tex, with those big muscles of his, tensing and squirming around there inside The Box as he continued to abuse himself. He was moving up and down on the whole length of the rubber prick, fucking himself on it for all of those men out there in cyberspace to see.

  Guy realized that watching Tex had given him a hard-on. Guy glanced about nervously, but he immediately saw that he had nothing to feel embarrassed about. No one inside the warehouse was looking at him. They were all concentrating on Tex, either staring directly at him, or following his performance on the monitors. And Deke, who was standing near Guy, wasn’t just staring at Tex—he too had an erection, and he was stroking it, lightly, as though he was afraid if he touched himself too forcefully he might shoot off prematurely.

  Reassured, Guy kept on observing Tex at work, thinking about that big sex toy jammed deep up inside him, envying it, wishing it was his own flesh-and-blood cock in there instead. Tex looked as though he’d be one hell of a good fuck!

  Tex continued to ride the dildo. When he raised himself, the bright red cock would slip almost all of the way back out of him, but when he gritted his teeth and squatted down again on it, he’d impale himself all over again on its full length.

  He went on and on like that for a long time, but even his endurance had its limits. Guy knew that Tex couldn’t go on like this indefinitely, that he couldn’t hold it in much longer. Tex’s fist, gripping and stroking his cock, picked up speed. His heavy breathing left no doubt about how close he was to the brink. He was masturbating himself so violently now that Guy knew he’d have to explode.

  And he did. “Fuck!” Tex screamed. “Fuck, I’m coming! Coming!”

  In a matter of seconds he was ejaculating, his semen thick and wet. It flew free from the swollen, tortured-looking head of his penis and shot right across the bed, splattering onto those yellow sheets.

  “God damn,” Guy heard Deke mutter, beside him. “That boy is too good. He almost made me come!”

  When he was finished, Tex eased himself off the dildo, detached it from the floor, and nonchalantly strode off the set, carrying the sex toy with him. Guy didn’t see how he could stand up straight, let alone walk, after the battering his ass hole had just been given! Tex exchanged a few words with Avery, who kissed him, Guy noticed, in a way that was more amorous than friendly. Then Tex sauntered off to take a shower.

  “That Tex is a hot guy,” Guy said. “Is he Avery’s lover?”

  “Tex? Are you kidding me? He’s nobody’s lover. He’s a whore,” Antwan replied.

  “Gee, Antwan. That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”

  “I didn’t mean it as an insult. He’s a hustler. He doesn’t make any secret of it.”

  “Oh. Well, aren’t we all?”

  The sheets were changed yet again. This time, the new ones were hot pink. Guy wondered whether Avery wrote off laundering as a business expense. Knowing the gym owner’s business acumen, he probably did!

  And then Guy, Antwan, and Deke went back inside The Box and fucked again. This time, in order to vary the fare, Antwan assumed a much more aggressive role in the action, by planting his hard cock up Guy’s quite willing and responsive butt. Deke watched the two of them fuck, and for the benefit of the camera he jerked himself off almost to climax before he joined them, shoving his dick down Antwan’s throat. For a moment, it looked as though Deke was going to come in the boy’s mouth while Antwan came in Guy’s ass. But the rule of the come shot prevailed. Deke pulled out of Antwan’s mouth just in time to treat him to a facial. Antwan withdrew from Guy’s ass, discarded his condom, and sprayed his load all over Guy’s back and buttocks.

  Next, Guy, who had been careful not to come while Antwan was screwing him, agreed to fuck Deke. The tough-looking black muscleman stretched out on his back on the rumpled and sweat-stained bed sheets. Guy knelt between his legs, which he held up high by the ankles, and pumped his prick exultantly in and out of his ass. It was quite an experience to fuck a man with such a fantastic body, to hear him beg for it, to feel him respond to his fucker’s every thrust. Deke, wildly excited, urged Antwan to sit on his face so that he could rim his boy while Guy fucked him.

  It was almost three-quarters of an hour of nonstop action before the three horny men’s libidos finally gave out, and, overcome by the sheer need for rest, they collapsed on the bed, i
n a pile of weary, satiated flesh. The hot pink sheets were puddled and sodden with their combined semen. Only then did Orlando turn off his camera and set it down, this time for good, calling it a night.

  In the booth, Paul resumed his commentary, cheerfully addressing the audience before bidding them goodnight and signing off.

  The three men got cleaned up and dressed.

  Avery was gleeful. Guy had rarely seen him look so animated.

  “Absolutely one of the best shows we have ever produced,” he declared. “It went on for a little longer than usual, but I bet everybody out there watched through to the very end. Great work, men.”

  Avery now produced three envelopes, which he distributed among them. Guy was actually surprised to see that his envelope contained a stack of twenty-dollar bills. He’d gotten so caught up in performing for the camera that he’d forgotten he was going to be paid for it!

  Chapter Five

  Steam Heat

  Guy’s recent experiences—with Jeremy, and especially with Deke and Antwan, as the new stud in the Big Boyz stable—had changed his perspective about being single.

  He now told himself that he’d been a fool to sit at home at night and mope about after his breakup with Reinaldo. Now that he was back in circulation, leading an active and varied sex life, he decided that he was enjoying it. Guy had never been one to do things halfway. Sooner or later, he reasoned, he was sure to meet a man who’d become his next real lover, the kind of man to whom he could be faithful. Well, reasonably faithful. There wasn’t any point in getting too carried away!

  In the meanwhile, though, if he was going to whore around, he might as well whore around big time. After all, you had to fuck a lot of frogs before you found a prince!

  I need sex, he told himself. Not conversation, not friendship, not even intimacy. What I need is to get my rocks off!

  One weekday night, after working out with Petr, he went home, made himself dinner, and tried to relax. But his muscles were aching after the punishment he’d subjected them to, and he felt restless. He recognized the edginess inside him. It was latent horniness, and it wouldn’t take much to coax it out into the open.

  Guy thought about calling Jeremy, to suggest that they get together. He thought about calling Deke, to see if he and Antwan might be interested in a threesome. There were other names and numbers jotted down in Guy’s address book, former tricks who’d probably be more than willing to meet up with him again.

  But he chose to avail himself of none of these options. Tonight he needed convenience sex—no strings, no emotional entanglements, no complications. No prolonged conversation, and no names, either, if that could be avoided. He decided to treat himself to a night at the tubs.

  The Steam Factory was a comparatively upscale bathhouse. It was clean and well maintained. There was a gym area on the premises, with a decent assortment of free weights and exercise machines. This allowed the owners to pretend that they were really operating a health club of sorts, and some of the patrons actually used this part of the facility.

  There was a lounge area, with a coffee and juice bar and vending machines, where the customers could relax, with their towels wrapped around their waists, and watch the three big-screen TVs installed on the walls. Most of the time, you could predict what could be seen on each of the TVs. One would be tuned to a cable news channel, one would be tuned to a cable sports channel, and the third was devoted to porn movies. The rest of the wall space was decorated with framed posters advocating safe sex.

  The lounge area was strategically placed so that men coming and going from the locker room and the showers had to pass through it. This facilitated cruising.

  In the basement of the building, however, the atmosphere was more intimate. The lighting was kept low, and the space was divided into a labyrinth of hallways and small private rooms. There was an Orgy Room and a Dungeon Playroom, both with wall signs forthrightly labeling them as such.

  It had been some time since Guy had gone there, but he saw that the layout hadn’t changed. Neither had the clientele. He even recognized a couple of the regulars, to whom he nodded as he made his leisurely way from the front desk, through the lounge, to the locker room.

  Guy chose a locker, stripped, and stashed away his clothes. He wrapped the towel he’d been given at the desk around his waist and slipped the rubber band with his locker key around his wrist. He was ready for action.

  He had no sooner stepped away from the locker than he noticed a tall, thickset man about his own age, staring him down from a position a dozen lockers down the row. Abruptly, the man walked over and put his right hand on Guy’s bare left shoulder. Even by freewheeling bathhouse standards, this was a rather bold, aggressive move. Most men didn’t care to be touched unless they invited it, or initiated the contact themselves. This man might have earned himself a push away or a slap on his hand. But Guy liked his looks, so he did nothing to discourage him. Guy stood and returned the man’s gaze and smile, while the warm palm continued to roam over his shoulder, then down his upper arm. Guy’s bicep received a squeeze. Guy flexed the muscle, making the hand clasped about it loosen its grip.

  “Fuck! That’s some body you’ve got there, man,” the tall man said.

  “Thanks,” Guy said.

  “You want to hook up?” the other man asked, smiling broadly and invitingly now.

  His frankness and his direct approach took Guy by surprise. Bathhouse connections were usually made only after a period of aggressive flirtation—often consisting of prolonged eye contact. Maybe this number was in a hurry to get his rocks off and head home. Guy was willing to oblige him.

  “Sure,” Guy said.

  “I’ve got a room downstairs.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They left the locker room and descended the stairs to the basement. The man led Guy to his cubicle, unlocked the door, and politely ushered Guy into the narrow space ahead of him. He followed Guy into the room, and closed the door.

  There was a narrow bed against one wall, with a single pillow. The sheets and pillowcase were cheap, coarse white cotton, dulled to a grayish off-white by repeated launderings. There was a little table next to the bed. It held a strip of condoms, a tube of lubricant, and an extra towel. The man’s clothes were hung on wall hooks. A mirror was screwed to the wall opposite the bed, so the occupants of the bed could observe themselves having sex. The bulb in the light fixture was turned down low at the moment, and cast a sickly yellowish glow across the interior of the cubicle, leaving parts of it in shadow. The whole ambience was unapologetically sexual. Everything about it spelled anonymous, quickie sex.

  Standing face to face in the cramped space between the bed and the wall mirror, the two men shed their towels and embraced.

  “What do you like to do?” Guy’s new acquaintance murmured.

  “I want to blow you,” Guy declared.

  “Fuck, man. Be my guest.”

  Guy slid down onto his knees, kissing his way down the other man’s torso as he did so. When he reached his groin, he began licking and sucking his cock. He teased the piss slit with a rapid swipe of his tongue. Then he opened his mouth wide and lapped at the cock head.

  He put one hand around the shaft of the man’s cock and stroked it back and forth while, with his lips, he performed an imitation of a vacuum cleaner upon it. He pushed his wet mouth down on the erection, taking it all, feeling the blunt head fill his mouth. He forced the cock as far back into his throat as he dared, then set his tongue into restless motion, licking wantonly up and down the length, and all around the circumference, of the ramrod-rigid shaft.

  “God, man, but you’ve got a hot mouth,” Guy’s new sex partner commented, his eyes closed in ecstatic concentration as Guy blew him. The young guy’s hairy body smelled of deodorant soap. He bent his knees and let Guy move in closer between his thighs, then put his calloused hands on the kneeling cocksucker’s huge shoulders, and pushed him toward him, urging him on. Dark brown h
air was matted with sweat around his nipples, growing thick and coarse over his chest and spreading down to his powerful balls. He was built like a football player, and Guy, as big as he was, felt almost fragile and vulnerable next to him as he nuzzled the guy’s pubic hair. Even the scent of the soap couldn’t mask the masculine odor of his crotch and the lust that brought him there tonight with his genitals in an uproar.

  “My balls,” the man whispered. “Suck on my balls!”

  Guy only grunted in response, and began to suck on the other man’s inflated balls.

  “Oh Christ!” the recipient of his oral attention gasped.

  The left nut slipped wetly from Guy’s mouth, and his tongue got busy immediately on the root of the swollen cock shaft.

  “Oh, sweet fucking Jesus,” the other guy moaned, wetting his lips with his own pink tongue. “I’m not going to last much longer, man. Not with that hot mouth of yours going to town on my big fat dirty prick. I’m all sexed up tonight. I can’t hold in my jism, I’m going to have to give it to you soon. Oh, shit! Suck it! Suck my fucking whang!”

  Guy nipped the guy’s prick with his teeth, felt it throb against his lips in frantic arousal. His tongue guided the fat head between his lips. He sucked gently at first, so as not to push the stud over the brink of orgasm too soon, then he sucked harder and faster, until the other man was climbing the walls of the cubicle—literally. He was trying to stand up on the bunk, hunching his hips, struggling to ram all of his dick into Guy’s mouth and down his throat, desperately fucking his face.

  “Suck it,” he pleaded hoarsely. “Oh, suck it all, man! Suck it off!”

  As the other man half-crouched, half-stood in the corner of the cubicle, perched on the bunk, Guy eased himself up from the floor and onto the mattress. He grabbed the guy around his waist and urged him to lower himself again. His trick fell to his knees on the narrow bed, clumsily at first, trying hard not to break the contact of his cock with Guy’s mouth even for a split-second. Guy clutched the guy’s big hard ass cheeks roughly, letting his fingers dig into the tight hot groove between the buttocks, holding the man against him as he lay flat on the mattress under him. He thrilled to the massive thighs and the knees jammed up under his armpits, the weight of the young stud on his chest, his own hands working on the flesh of that big ass, pulling the guy’s prick down into his throat again so that he could suck it in this new position.