Tales From the Gym

by Roland Graeme

  “No. No, of course not.”

  “There’s always the danger of overtraining. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt either of us to take a couple of days off. What’ve you got planned for the weekend?”

  “Nothing in particular. And you?”

  “I have an idea. I’ve got a friend who lets me use his beach house when he’s not there. How’d you like to go there with me for the weekend?”

  “I’d enjoy that, Guy. But tell me more about this friend of yours. Is he your lover?”

  Guy laughed. “You think every man I know is my lover!” he protested. “Hardly. We’re just friends. He’s straight, as a matter of fact. I do have some straight friends, you know.”

  “He must be rich, to be able to afford a house on the beach.”

  “Well, he’s not exactly poor. He does all right. But he’s hardly a millionaire. And when I call his place a beach house, I’m really being polite. It’s a glorified shack. Nothing fancy, I’ve got to warn you. But it is on the waterfront, and it’s nice and private. Quiet. You might find it kind of boring, in fact. But there’s a small town nearby we can drive to, if we get too stir crazy.”

  “You almost sound as though you’re trying to talk me out of it, Guy, but in fact you’ve talked me into it. A quiet, relaxing weekend could be just what I need.”

  But if I have anything to say about it, Guy thought, a weekend with you is going to be anything but quiet or relaxing. This just might give me the chance I’ve been looking for. The chance to put the make on you!

  “Great,” he said. “We can drive up there Friday morning—okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Avery wasn’t too pleased when Guy told him he wouldn’t be available to do the live sex show that weekend.

  “Not even if I pair you up with Misterioso?” Avery suggested.

  “Nice try, Avery. I’ve been begging you to do that for a month, now, and all I’ve gotten from you is excuses. He’s traveling, competing. He’s busy training. He has a new boyfriend, who’s very possessive. He’s developed a mysterious rash—get it?—and he can’t perform again until his doctor gives him the okay. One damn excuse after another. Well, I’ve lost the hard-on I had for your mystery man. I’m going to spend the weekend with a man who doesn’t feel the need to wear a mask.”

  “Oh? Anybody I know?”

  “Petr, as a matter of fact.”

  “Ah. Petr. How interesting. Are the two of you finally going to get together—outside the gym?”

  “If I have anything to say about it, yeah.”

  “It’s about time. The two of you are perfect training partners. You’d make a perfect romantic couple, too.”

  “You’re not jealous?”

  “Of you? Really, Guy. You ought to know me better than that, by now. I’m not the possessive type.”

  Guy gave Avery a searching look. “You’re not exactly the committed type, either, are you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There was a time—not so long ago—when I thought that you and I might hook up. For more than just a couple of one-night stands. Not that I didn’t enjoy them. It’s just that they kind of whetted my appetite for more.”

  “I like to play the field, Guy.”

  “Yes, and you play it pretty well.”

  Avery, Guy thought, suddenly looked a bit uncomfortable—which wasn’t at all like him.

  “Has Petr said anything to you?” Avery asked.

  “About what?”

  “Oh, nothing. Forget it. I was just thinking out loud. Now, you and Petr go off and have fun. Enjoy each other. I hope it works out for you.”

  “You’re sweet, Avery.”

  “Sweet! Not exactly the first word I’d use to describe myself.”

  “Yeah, but you are, when you don’t feel the need to come across as such a hard ass. And you really don’t mind about the sex show?”

  “No. I can always put on one or two of the new blokes I’ve signed up, give them a chance to show what they can do. But I’ll expect you to come back next week, and give me a really spectacular performance. That is,” Avery added, slyly, “provided you don’t end up too debilitated after your weekend with Petr. That lad might squeeze some of the juice out of you.”

  “I’m hoping he does. I’m hoping he squeezes me dry. Like a sponge. A cum-soaked sponge,” Guy specified.

  “Guy, you slut!”

  “Oh, don’t hold back, Avery. Tell me exactly how you feel about me.”

  “All right, Guy. You aren’t just a slut. You are a total slut. Like me.”

  Guy laughed.

  He found his anticipation growing, as Friday approached. It was ironic that he and Petr, who were so close to one another in the gym, didn’t really know one another that well outside of it.

  He picked up Petr on Friday morning, and they drove down the coast, stopping for lunch on the way at a diner Guy knew. Then they had to turn off the main highway to reach the beachside community. The last stretch of the trip was on an unpaved road that threaded its way through sand dunes.

  Guy’s friend’s house was essentially a large wooden box, its exterior sheathed in siding weathered by exposure to the elements. The wall facing the ocean consisted of picture windows. There was a porch on the first floor, and a deck on the flat roof.

  The beach was a narrow strip of coarse brown sand, strewn with pebbles and rocks, and dotted here and there by clumps of shrubs that looked arid and stressed. But it was a beach, however modest, and the blue-green waters of the Pacific broke against it in ceaseless waves of white foamy surf.

  Inside the house, the first floor was one large open space, except where one area had been partitioned off for the kitchen. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a bathroom. The furniture was inexpensive, utilitarian, and showed signs of hard use.

  Guy led Petr upstairs.

  “We can each have our own bedroom,” Guy pointed out. “Or—we can share.”

  “Oh, I think it would be more fun to share,” Petr said, brightly.

  That was the answer Guy had been hoping for. They unpacked quickly, then went back downstairs and, in the kitchen, put away the groceries they’d brought with them.

  In the bright sunlight that came in through the windows, Guy noticed some dust and cobwebs in the living room. His friend wasn’t the most conscientious housekeeper, and he hadn’t used the beach house in a few weeks. It showed.

  “It smells kind of musty in here, probably because everything’s been shut up tight,” Guy said. “Let’s get some of these windows open, to air the place out. There’s no air conditioning, as you see—just the ceiling fans. That’s why I brought those citronella candles along. If we keep the windows open at night, the insects always manage to get in, despite the screens. We’ll have to light the candles to keep them at bay. I warned you we’d be roughing it.”

  Petr laughed. “Stop apologizing. This is fine. Living in the city has spoiled you. Back home in Czechoslovakia, I have gone on vacations where we stayed in places in the middle of the forest, with no electricity or plumbing. Now, I want to sunbathe, and go for a swim.”

  “Here’s a big old blanket, kept right by the door, to use on the beach,” Guy pointed out. “Otherwise, all we need are towels and suntan oil. I’ll run upstairs and get them.”

  “We’ll need our bathing suits, too.”

  “There doesn’t seem to be anybody in the houses next door,” Guy observed. “You want to forget about the bathing suits and just go in the water naked?”

  “Should we?”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “What if somebody comes past in a boat, or flies over in an airplane, and sees us?”

  “So what if they do? I didn’t know you were so modest.”

  “I’m not. I’ll risk it if you will.”

  “I go swimming here in the nude all the time. Especially at night. If the neighbors do catch a peek, they don’t seem to mind. Maybe they enjoy it.”

 
; “Guy, you are what they call an exhibitionist.”

  “And proud of it. Wait here.”

  Guy went upstairs and quickly found two towels and a tube of suntan oil, which contained a sunscreen. He joined Petr, who had gone out onto the porch and was admiring the view.

  “Look, Guy! Seagulls!”

  “Don’t you have them back in Czechoslovakia?”

  “We’re a landlocked country. There were seagulls in Florida, of course. And big pelicans that would perch on top of the wooden posts driven into the ground under the water to hold up the piers.”

  Petr seemed as excited as a small boy on holiday, and his enthusiasm was infectious.

  “Come on,” Guy urged.

  Guy gave Petr a knowing, conspiratorial look as he led him across the beach to the water’s edge. He stooped to spread out the blanket on the sand, then straightened up again and pulled his tight T-shirt over his head to display his heavy chest with its sharply-defined pectoral muscles. His pointed nipples were brownish-pink in color and surrounded by tiny tufts of dark chest hair.

  He glanced at Petr, who was removing his own shirt. He watched as Petr lowered his jeans, half-hoping that his attractive companion would be wearing nothing underneath them.

  But Petr stripped down to reveal a pair of white bikini briefs, typically European in style, that made a tiny circle of token modesty around his hips. The fabric was so sheer that Guy could distinguish not only the outline but the hue of his buddy’s cock and balls, the genital flesh gleaming a rosy pink through the taut white cloth.

  Shit, Guy thought, I’m going to get a hard-on just from looking at him!

  Aloud, he said, “In that underwear, you might as well be naked.”

  “It’s decent,” Petr protested.

  “Barely.”

  “It’s supposed to be sexy.”

  “On you, it is.”

  Petr returned the compliment. “Your underwear looks very attractive on you, too.”

  “Why, thank you, kind sir.” Guy had also stripped down to his designer briefs, which were a soft beige in color, and cut somewhat more generously in the rear, covering his buttocks. “Okay, should we get naked right now, or leave our skivvies on until we actually go in for a swim?”

  “I think we had better err on the side of caution, Guy. I don’t want somebody to see us out here, exposing ourselves. And I don’t want to risk getting my penis sunburned.”

  Guy guffawed with laughter. “Yeah, that could be inconvenient, to put it mildly.” He picked up the tube of suntan oil. “You’d better put on some of this right now, Petr. The sun’s strong today. And you’re so fair.”

  “Yes, rub some of it on my back, Guy, please. And then I’ll do you.”

  I should be so lucky, Guy thought.

  He uncapped the tube and watched as Petr lay down on the blanket and turned over onto his stomach, his tight rounded ass cheeks sticking up invitingly. Guy knelt, squeezed out a palmful of the oil, rubbed his hands together to slick them both up, and then began rubbing the oil over Petr’s broad shoulders, gradually increasing the pressure of his hands, kneading his fellow bodybuilder’s flesh like a masseur. Petr squirmed with pleasure, wriggling his buttocks inside that provocative bikini and turning restlessly on the blanket.

  “Oh, that feels good,” Petr said. “Very good. You’re almost as good as Tex.”

  “Who’s Tex?” Guy asked.

  “Just a friend of mine. Who doesn’t own a beach house.”

  “But a friend who gives you rubdowns, huh? Have you been holding out on me?”

  “You have your secrets, Guy—and I have mine.”

  “Obviously. But that’s quite a coincidence. I know a guy named Tex, too.”

  “I’m told it is a common nickname for men who come from Texas. You see, Guy, I’m learning more about American culture all the time,” Petr boasted. “But put some more oil on me, please. You are very good with your hands.”

  That’s not the only thing I’m good with, buddy! Guy was tempted to say.

  Encouraged by Petr’s praise, Guy moved his hands lower on the other man’s firm body, now rubbing the oil into the small of his back. Petr’s bikini was so brief that it barely covered the crack of his ass. Guy rubbed a hand over the skin there, tempted to slip a finger under the skimpy fabric and push it inside the Czech stud’s tempting ass.

  He moved his hand lower, below Petr’s briefs and onto the backs of his thick, sturdy muscles. He caressed the striations, still under the pretense of oiling Petr up. Petr spread his legs, opening the insides of his thighs to Guy’s hands.

  Guy put some more of the oil on his palms and rubbed the inner parts of the other bodybuilder’s thighs, accidentally brushing up against his scrotum. He worked his way down from Petr’s butt along his muscular legs, slathering the man’s limbs generously with the gleaming oil.

  As he rubbed it into the soles of Petr’s feet, he said, “I expect you to do the same for me, you know.”

  “Certainly, Guy. It will be my pleasure.” He rolled over to let Guy oil his chest.

  Guy’s fingers dug into the twin mounds of Petr’s chest, testing their resilience. The hard muscles barely yielded to the pressure. He could feel the stiff cones of Petr’s nipples pressing up against his palms.

  “You’ve got such a nice body,” Guy murmured.

  “So do you.”

  “You like it, huh?”

  Petr’s violet-gray eyes returned Guy’s gaze unflinchingly, but he seemed puzzled.

  “Of course I like it. I like you. I like everything about you, Guy. Why shouldn’t I?”

  Guy shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not such a nice guy.”

  “I disagree.”

  Guy shivered as a cool breeze suddenly hit him, sending piercing little shudders through his body. He looked seaward, then up at the sky, and saw that a bank of dense dark gray clouds were scurrying across the horizon, blotting out the sun.

  “Damn,” he muttered. “Was it supposed to rain this afternoon?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “It looks like a storm’s coming this way, and fast.” As though to confirm Guy’s observation, a crack of thunder sounded in the distance.

  “Well, we came out here to get wet, after all,” Petr said. To Guy’s ears, his voice now sounded husky with sexual need.

  Guy sat up. “Let’s get naked,” he suggested. “It looks like we’re going to get wet, one way or another.”

  He thrust his hands inside the waistband of his briefs and pushed them quickly down his legs. He had an erection, and now there was nothing to conceal it from Petr’s gaze. He noted with satisfaction that Petr was staring at him, and making no attempt to hide the fact.

  Guy added his briefs to the pile of his discarded clothing, then sat back on the blanket again. He leaned back on his elbows with his legs spread, his knees bent. He stretched himself a bit, lazily, like a cat. Down there between his thick sun bronzed thighs, his rod stood straight up, throbbing, mutely signaling to Petr and inviting him to do something with it.

  “Aren’t you going to strip, too?” he asked.

  Petr, Guy knew from the gym, wasn’t any more modest that he was. His training partner had a great body and he was proud of it. Quickly, Petr pulled off that tiny white bikini, tossed it on top of his own outer garments, and then stood there, towering over Guy.

  Guy suppressed a groan of desire as he looked up from his prone position and admired the naked blond man. He stared at Petr’s broad shoulders that tapered down to his improbably small waist. He found every part of Petr’s body arousing—the broad chest, dusted with delicate blond hair and crowned by its pair of large brown nipples, the flat hard stomach, the well-shaped legs, and, most enticing of all, the thick penis that was more than semi-erect at the moment and that twitched as though in anticipation of being directly stimulated.

  “It’s very exciting to be out here in the open air, naked, isn’t it?” Pe
tr remarked. He seemed to have overcome his fear of being observed, Guy noted with amusement.

  “Yeah, isn’t it? You look good standing there.”

  “And you look good lying there.”

  Guy laughed. “What is this we’ve got going here—some sort of a mutual admiration society?”

  “Perhaps. I do admire you, Guy. You have such a fine physique. You are very handsome. And you are exceptionally well endowed,” Petr added, in his slightly stilted, formal-sounding English.”

  “Oh, I am, am I?”

  “Yes. You seem to be very well equipped to provide your partner with pleasure during the act of love.”

  “Well, that’s one way of putting it. Thanks, buddy. You’re no slouch in that department yourself, from the looks of it.”

  “Slouch? What does slouch mean?”

  “In this context, a slouch would be somebody who couldn’t rise to the occasion. Who couldn’t satisfy another man in bed.”

  “I see. I hope I am not a slouch.”

  “I’d be willing to bet you aren’t. One of the reasons I invited you to come here with me this weekend was because…well, I was hoping I’d have a chance to find out.”

  “Do you think of me that way, Guy? Not only as a friend, but as someone you would like to have sex with?”

  “Yes, I do. How about you? How do you feel about it?”

  “I have always been attracted to you, Guy. Ever since that first day we met in the gym.”

  “Maybe it’s about time we did something about it.”

  As he spoke, Guy heard another crack of thunder, and he felt the rain start to come down. At first only a few drops isolated struck his naked body, but then the downpour began to wet him down with increasing intensity. The rain water felt cold against his nude flesh, but also strangely stimulating.

  “It’s raining,” Petr said.

  “Yeah.”

  “We might be hit by lightning.”

  “That’s a possibility. A remote one, but still a possibility.”

  “Perhaps we ought to go back inside the house.”

  “Maybe.”

  Neither man moved, though. They continued to stare at each other as the rain drops struck their bodies.