Date: Sun, 23 Dec 2001 23:51:02 +0000
From: skaar skaar <skaaroz@hotmail.com>
Subject: Boy Narcissus: After Summer

After Summer
By S.K. Aaron

He could have been there for hours.In fact, the boy could have been
watching me since I moved into my ground floor apartment ten days ago, for
all I knew.

It was the end of Summer and I'd just moved out of my girlfriend's
apartment. I guess it was inevitable - we just didn't have as much in common
as we thought. I liked to work out twice a day and go running for at least
an hour. She preferred to read a book or watch a video. Plus I think she
just wanted the sex, you know. Some girls sometimes just go for a buff guy
just so they can say they got him to their girlfriends and sort of parade
him around. The fact that she worked for a client of my modelling agency and
I'd done a magazine layout in briefs should have told me something, I
suppose. Still, at 24 I guess I had plenty of time.

I was lucky to find the apartment. It was in a big old Spanish mission style
block. I set up the second bedroom with my weights bench and all my stuff,
so I was pretty happy. There weren't any drapes in the room, but I didn't
worry because the room faced onto a fence and the trees pretty much blocked
the view from the apartments next door.

I didn't break my routine. Every morning I worked out, showered, went to
work, came home, worked out again, went for a run, then showered, ate,
watched some TV and went to sleep. I guess you could say I was a creature of
habit. Keeping fit was my passion. I knew I was OK looking and the fact that
I was signed up to a modelling agency by a guy who just saw me running one
day made me feel pretty good about myself. Don't get me wrong - I don't have
a big head or anything, but, hey, I know I get the looks - know what I mean?
haha.

I pretty much work out in the nude most of the time. I just get out of bed
and go do it. Or I strip off when I get home from work. I'm not an
exhibitionist. In fact, I hate those guys who pose at the gym which is
pretty much why I work out at home. Anyway, I usually make sure I can do it
somewhere private which is why I got a hell of a shock when, one afternoon
after working out, I'm standing in the buff checking myself in the mirror in
the spare bedroom and I see in the top right corner of the mirror this kid
staring down at me from the window of a second floor apartment. And I mean,
he was staring! He didn't just catch a glimpse. This little dude was full-on
checking me out.

I wasn't embarrassed or anything. I just didn't know he was there. And I
just didn't know anyone could see. But his line of vision could see
perfectly through the trees and into the mirror when I stood in front of it,
plus I think he could probably see me when I was on the weights bench.

I didn't think too much of it - just some kid checking out an older dude
like you do when you're young and in the locker rooms or change rooms at the
pool or whatever. But the next day, he was there again, staring down from
his window. When I sat up on the bench and stared right back at him, he
ducked down out of sight. But, a minute later, there he was again.

This happened every afternoon for the next week or so. I'd either see him
when I sat up on the weights bench or I'd see him in the corner of the
mirror. It was pretty stupid. Here was this kid now pretending not to look
and here was me pretending he wasn't there. So, one day, I just waved to
him. I think he got the shock of his life. Up until then, I don't think he
really realised how if he could see me, I could see him! He ducked down and
hid. Then, after a little while, up popped his head. So I waved again. And
he sheepishly waved back, obviously embarrassed that he'd been busted. Then
he disappeared.

I finished my work-out, smiling to myself. If the situation were reversed,
yeah, that probably would have been me up there at his age, staring down at
an older, muscley guy working out nude.

There was a knock at the door as I grabbed my towel and put it around me. I
opened it, and there was a boy, standing, red-faced. Was this....? He was a
good looking kid who had obviously had a really good Summer with his
sun-bleached blonde highlights glistening in the late afternoon sun and his
deep, deep brown tan emphasizing the whites of his eyes and his teeth
dramatically. He looked pretty fit for a young guy. I could tell there was a
pretty impressive chest under his white tank-top. And he was really short,
which, I guess, highlighted his broad young physique.

"Hi", he said, almost stammering but faintly smiling, too. "Could you teach
me?". He looked up and his eyes widened, I think with nervousness. It was
too cute and I had to stifle a laugh. But, god-damn, this was one good
looking kid.

"Teach you what?"

"Like working out. With weights".

"Come in", I said, my suppressed laugh turning into a big smile. "You've
been watching me, haven't you?".

He looked away. "Yes, sir. Sorry".

"That's OK, kid. Now what do you want to learn?"

The boy looked me up and down, admiringly. "I want to get big, like you. So
everyone looks at me. I like it when guys look at me".

It was a pretty strange thing that he said. He liked it when guys looked at
him. Oh well.

"Sure, kid. I'll give you some pointers. Go in the room there and I'll be in
in a minute"

I went into the bedroom and put on a pair of Tommy boxers. I then walked
into the spare bedroom, where the weights were, and just about had a damn
heart attack.

"Whoa!" I said, in total shock. The kid was lying on his back on the weights
bench totally naked.

"I want to do it like you do it. If'n that's OK".

He had an incredibly muscular and defined physique for his age. Broad
shoulders with excellent lats; huge, well-defined pecs that suggested he'd
been working out for a few years already; a washboard stomach with the firm
hint of an emerging six-pack; a ridiculously tiny waist; lean, hairless,
muscular legs and, weirdest thing of all, no tan line. At all. He was
chestnut brown from his head to his toes. Even his cock and balls were a
light brown, their size making me stare. He honestly had the biggest young
cock I had ever seen on a guy, not that I went round looking at guys his age
in locker rooms, but it was massive. It looked like it was half the length
of his forearm, plus his balls hung low and heavy, all hairless. This kid
was an Adonis. He'd be a total heart-breaker when he was older. And,
somehow, I think he knew it. Maybe that was why he said he liked it when
guys looked at him.

It was such a perfect vision. I guess normally... what am I saying?? It's
not like some kid comes into my apartment and strips off every day! No, what
I was going to say was normally I think I'd tell someone to put his clothes
on, but there was something compelling about this kid's physical beauty that
made me want to look at him naked, that made me want to drink in his perfect
physique, that compelled me to let him work out naked. And I had the feeling
that he wanted it, too, more than me.

I trained him for an hour or so with an intensive pecs workout. When we
finished, he stood in front of the mirror, as he'd seen me do, looking
himself up and down.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Do you like my body?"

I felt slithly embarrassed. "You've got a lot of potential. Just keep doing
what I've taught you"

He seemed a little crest-fallen. The truth is, I couldn't look at him too
long. It wasn't just his entrancing beauty, it was, well... and this has
never happened to me before... I was sort of getting turned on by him
because he just oozed sexuality.

I sent him on his way. That night, I couldn't sleep. I was thinking about
him, picturing him in my mind doing inclined beach presses, seeing his
defined chest expanding, lying there below me, naked, vulnerable, innocent,
yet exuding the siren-like attraction that drew me in with his beauty. I
became aware that my cock was hard. It confused the hell out of me.

I didn't expect to see him again. Perhaps in his window. But we hadn't made
any arrangements, so I figured he'd do the routines I suggested and maybe
come back to me in a month or two for something different. But there he was,
the next afternoon, at my door, hardly pausing for an invitation before he
came in and headed towards the room.

I felt powerless. Almost speechless. He walked right past me saying
something about quads and hamstrings workouts to make his legs bigger and
sat right down on the bench, starting immediately to take off his shoes and
socks, followed by his T-shirt and shorts. I stood there like an automaton;
motionless, speechless, as he stood in front of me naked. A young adonis for
me, and the world, to worship and swim in the glow of his youthful beauty.

He did three sets of quads workouts, sitting upright on the bench, grunting
towards the end as his thigh muscles began to burn. I couldn't help notice
that his cock thickened and lengthened towards the end, but that was normal
with the physical exertion. Sometimes I got fully hard when working out and
my blood was up.

He then turned on his stomach and did three hamstring workouts, increasing
the weight each time. His nut-brown hairless butt clenched and relaxed,
forcing his hips into the bench and his shiny ball sack to tighten and force
his balls between his legs with each lift of the weights on his feet. Try as
I might, I couldn't help my cock hardening in my boxers. Thank God he was
lying down and couldn't see. He'd think I was some sort of pervert.

After the final set, he paused for a second. I squatted, as much to take the
weights off the leg presses as to hide my hard-on if he looked. He stood up,
not a yard from me, hands on hips. I turned and looked. He was pumped,
glistening with a light sweat in the late afternoon heat and sporting a grin
and an absolutely massive hard-on, pressed firm against his flat, hairless
brown belly. I almost choked.

"Well, what do you think?" he said, flashing his brilliant white teeth in an
impish grin.

What did I think of his work-out or his cock? I didn't know what to say, so
I stayed squatting, fiddling with the weights.

"Do you think I've got a nice body?"

I tried to concentrate on fumbling with the weights and leg press; tried not
to look.

"Guys like me. They think I've got a nice body. I think you like me"

I stood, almost in a trance. My hard-on tented my boxers as I towered over
this little dude. He glanced at my boxers and took a half step towards me. I
could feel my face redden and my heart pound. A little rivulet of sweat ran
down my bare torso from my armpit. He gently reached forward and softly
stroked my cock through my boxers. I stood motionless, frozen to the ground.
A thrill of excitement ran up my body making me tremble.

A look of surprise and confusion crossed his face. "You've never done it
with a guy, have you?", he said quietly.

"No", I said. And until that moment, I never thought I would.

                               ***

Part II will follow should readers request. Email me at skaaroz@hotmail.com.
Thanks, S.K. Aaron