Date: Wed, 21 Aug 1996 18:25:25 -0700
From: Richard Smith <rtsmith@ottawa.com>
Subject: The Workout

The Workout
by Richard Smith

     I'm fat, and I've learned not to be ashamed of it.  Not just
because I can't control how my hormones have given me low stamina
and slow metabolism, but because I've also discovered that there
are people out there who like me as I am.  However, there's a
difference between being fat and being completely out of shape.
Many times I've cursed myself as I climbed a single flight of
stairs, out of breath by the time I reached the top.  At the
moment, I'm facing a lot of stair climbing.  I'm attending
college, and every one of my classes is on the fourth floor.
There's an elevator which I use almost always to get up to the
right floor, but I keep feeling guilty since it's meant mainly
for handicapped students and for equipment moved from floor to
floor.  So what was I to do?

     Fortunately, the college has some very handy facilities for
students, including a weight room.  I figured that a regular
workout, while unlikely to melt away the pounds as so many
infomercials continually promise, would help get me into some
sort of shape.  So I paid for me one-semester pass and, on
Friday, went to the change room for the first time.  Lockers
lined the walls, and a few benches sat in the middle of the
floor.  When I arrived, several other guys were either getting
ready to work out, or were just finishing up afterwards.  I've
always been nervous about getting undressed around other people,
at least when it wasn't for sex.  I walked over to the far
corner, away from the two half-dressed guys at their lockers,
only to realize that I now had a clear view into the showers.
Water was running, and there was the occasional tantalizing
glimpse of an arm or leg as whoever-he-was washed off.  I began
awkwardly undressing, putting everything in an empty locker, and
sneaking peeks at the others.  It was now clear that the two at
the lockers were getting dressed to leave, which they did
accompanied by the clanging of locker doors.  I had just finished
undressing when the water stopped in the shower.  Panicking, I
grabbed my towel and wrapped it around my ample waist just as the
owner of those arms and legs stepped into the change room.  He
was at least six feet tall, with a boyish face topped with a dark
blonde crewcut.  The summer semester had barely started, but he
looked as though he was already working on his tan.  Before I
could see how far his tan went, however, he had grabbed his towel
and covered the object of my curiosity.

     Then he seemed to notice me for the first time, giving me a
brief once-over before going to his locker.  I'd heard just about
every line about being fat, and wondered which was going through
his head just then.  I watched him surreptitiously until I saw
him putting on a pair of shorts; it was still too cool outside,
so he was most likely going to be in the weight room when I
finally got there.  Finished playing Sherlock Holmes, I headed
for the showers.  As the hot water sprayed over me, I let myself
fantasize for a while.  I ran my soapy hands across my chest,
cupping one breast, then the other, circling the nipples with
slippery fingers, and imagining that it was one of the guys I'd
just seen.  My hand moved down the curve of my stomach, then
nestled in its overhang, slowly lifting and lowering it in time
to my breathing.  Then I felt down further still, into the nest
of hairs that hid -- ah! -- and began running my fingers around
my cock, coaxing it out of its hiding place, stroking it into
hardness, and continued until my knees twinged.  It wouldn't do
me any good to exhaust myself before even getting to do any
exercises, so I forced myself out of that reverie by thinking of
what would really happen if someone walked in while I was
stroking off.  I finished washing, letting the hot spray rinse
away the last of the soap, then towelled myself dry, quickly
dressing in the grey flannel tracksuit I'd brought along.  then I
shut and locked my locker, and headed for the weight room.

     I don't know why they didn't call it the "workout room" or
the "exercise room," since the weights are only part of the
equipment.  There're also some stair-climbers, stationary bikes,
and other machinery you'd find at most gyms.  I saw the blonde
crewcut on one machine, lifting a weighted bar with his legs.  I
decided to warm up on one of the stair-climbers, setting it to an
easy level and short time.  It took a while to get used to the
mechanism, although I still wonder if I didn't get more exercise
from gripping the handrail than by actually "walking."  I'd
finally started to get into a rhythm when the timer went off, and
the display showed my results: not great, but not bad for my
first go.  I stood there, catching my breath for a few moments,
then decided to have another go with the same settings.  It went
better that time, but I kept getting the feeling that I was being
watched.  Every time I looked, though, the other guy was busy
with his own exercises.  Then my second go on the climber was
finished, showing a better result than the first.  I decided it
was time for a short breather before continuing.

     I sat on the bench for a few minutes, feeling the sweat
continue to trickle down my face and tickle as it ran down my
back.  I kept sneaking peeks at the blonde as he would finish
with one machine and move right to the next.  With that build, he
could probably get just about any girl he'd want.  Or guy.
Before my mind started to wander in those directions again, I
decided to get back to my own exercising.  There was a pair of
exercise bikes in the room, so I climbed onto one of them, set it
to a low resistance, then began pedalling.  It was pretty easy,
so I began to go faster, and faster, making the speedometer's
needle crawl further across its dial.  Then my right leg cramped
suddenly, making me gasp and struggle to get down.  Whether he'd
been curious about my rapid pedalling, or concerned about my
pained gasp, the blonde was suddenly beside me.  He helped me off
the bike, his strong hands supporting me as I walked the knot out
of the muscle.

     "You shouldn't be doing so much exercise," he said.  "At
least, not without warmups.  Feeling better?"

     "Yeah.  Guess that's all my exercise for today.  Thanks for
the help."

     "No problem.  I figure I'm done too, so let me help you back
to the changing room.  Oh, my name's Greg, by the way."

     "Thanks again, Greg.  Mine's Rob."

     I limped back to the change room, Greg walking close by in
case I cramped again.  Part of me tried to figure out why he was
so concerned about me, remembering the touch of his hands and
conjuring all sorts of impossible scenes, which my cock responded
to enthusiastically.  No matter how often I told myself he
wouldn't be interested in someone like me, my erection remained
almost painfully hard.  I hesitated at my locker, waiting for
Greg to go ahead into the shower, but he hung back.

     "No need to be embarrassed, Rob," he said.  "I'm used to
seeing other guys getting undressed, so you've nothing to worry
about."

     I didn't bother telling him that I wasn't so used to being
watched by a stranger as I undressed, nor did I want him to see
my small erection.  I readied my towel, quickly removed the
tracksuit, and wrapped the towel around my waist, all with my
back to Greg.  We headed for the showers together, which made me
realize that all my ingenuity had been in vain -- I was about to
be in a small room with Greg, both of us naked with no way to
hide anything.  Reluctantly, I hung the towel on the rack by the
doorway, then stepped in.  Greg had already started one shower,
so I modestly chose one facing the other direction, enjoying the
hot water once again spraying over me.

     I lathered up, starting with my chest, but self-consciously
avoided paying anything close attention as I had earlier.  My
cock was still hard as I gave it a quick scrub, then gasped when
another hand replaced mine on it.  "You should wash it more
thoroughly than that," Greg said quietly in my ear as he slowly
stroked my hard-on.  My insides turned into so much jelly,
alternately fever-hot and ice-cold as I fully realized what was
happening.  "I saw you looking at me, and I think you know I've
been watching you."  His hand left my cock, running up my
slippery belly, joining his other hand and pulling me close.  A
recognizable hardness rested against my ass, and his chest
pressed against my back as his hands explored my belly, my hips,
my breasts.  I sighed, relaxing and enjoying the attention.
"Yeah, baby, just let it all go.  You're so sexy, so beautiful,
all of you."  He grabbed my breasts gently, running a finger
around each nipple, making me melt a bit more.

     I don't know how long we stayed like that, revelling in the
feel of our bodies pressing together, but finally Greg released
me.  "We might get caught here," he said.  "I don't live far from
here."  I broke several personal drying and dressing records
then, and we were soon walking the few blocks to his apartment.
It was furnished in the usual student-budget style, but what
struck me was the posters around the living room -- large guys,
fat guys, ranging from fully dressed to buck naked.  "There're
more in the bedroom," he said.  I didn't need any other hinds,
and by the time we reached his double bed, we were both naked
again.  Gently, he laid me back down onto the bed, running his
hands lightly over my body.  Then his lips were on one nipple,
his tongue lapping around it in circles of cool fire.  I couldn't
help gasping when he treated the other nipple the same way.
Another gasp was cut short as his mouth pressed against mine, our
tongues playing with each other, exploring.  When our kiss broke,
he stared at me for a long moment before ducking down.  His mouth
and tongue began to explore my body, teasingly running around
each breast before paying attention to the nipples, then moved
lower.

     Down the middle of my stomach he kissed, licked, and
nibbled, as he kneaded my ample flesh with expert hands.  His
tongue dipped into my navel, almost making me giggle at the new
sensation.  Lower still, he explored the sensitive skin beneath
my overhanging belly, and then he reached my cock.  I moaned,
almost shooting my load then as he took it into his mouth,
licking its underside, enveloping it in moist heat.  And then he
moved down even further, sucking and licking my balls, one, the
other, both at once.  His hands stroked the inside of my thighs,
gently spreading my legs.  One finger probed further back,
pressing against the sensitive knot of my ass, and I arched my
back in an attempt to let it in.  Greg gently rolled me over onto
my stomach and surprised me by continuing his oral ministrations
on my ass.  I moaned loudly as his tongue ran across my tight
hole, each pass convincing it to loosen a bit more.  When he
actually pushed his tongue in, it was the last straw.  "Fuck me,"
I pleaded, "fuck my ass!"

     Reaching over to the bedside table, he retrieved a condom
and lube.  He quickly rolled the condom over his erection, and
spread the cool lube on the rubber and my ass.  One finger
slipped into my ass, a second one followed slowly, letting my
muscles relax further.  Then the fingers were gone, and Greg was
kneeling between my legs, and his cockhead was pressed against
the opening.  He pushed forward gently but firmly, and I lifted
my ass to give him better access.  As I did so, he slid into me
partway, making me gasp at the sharp pain of penetration.
Holding still long enough for me to get used to him, he then
slowly moved forward again, filling me up.  Then I felt him
resting against my asscheeks and knew that he was all inside me.
He lay down on my back, his elbows planted on either side, his
hands free to fondle and caress as he began to slide in and out.

     As his tempo increased, I moved with him, lifting my ass to
meet every thrust, muscles clenching in a vain attempt to keep
him from pulling back out.  Our sweat slicked our bodies, letting
him slide across my back as he continued to fuck me.  I turned my
head, letting our mouths meet in another kiss which matched the
intensity of our sex.  Then he groaned, and thrust deeper,
harder, again, trying to reach as deep as possible before--
"Aaaugh!" he cried out, and I felt his cock swell inside me,
pulsing as shot after shot of his cum filled the condom, and he
collapsed on top of me.  We lay like that, his cock gradually
softening within me, for several minutes, catching our breath.
Carefully, Greg slipped out of me and excused himself.  I heard
him washing off briefly in the bathroom, and figured it was one
of those "wham-bam" deals.  I rolled onto my back, and decided to
relieve myself.  My cock was rock-hard, and already slick with
all the precum he'd fucked out of me, and my hand slid easily
along the shaft.

     "Hey, what're you doing?" Greg asked from the doorway.  "I'm
not going to let you get off that easily!"  To my surprise, he
opened another rubber, and rolled it onto my cock.  I began to
protest that I was too small to do anything, and he quieted me by
straddling my waist.  "You're just the size I like, Rob!  You'll
love it as much as I will."  He lubed my cock gently so as not to
bring me off accidentally, and rubbed some in his ass, then
positioned himself over my groin.  I felt my cock press against
the muscular ring of his ass, then slide in.

     "Oh, God!" I exclaimed as I felt the heat of his insides
envelope me.  He sat in my lap for a moment, letting me savour
the feeling, then began to bob up and down gently.  The
sensations of those muscles sliding up and down my cock were
almost enough to send me over right away, but I wanted this to
last as long as possible.  Greg leaned forward, resting his hands
on my chest, massaging it as he continued to ride me.  I reached
up and held onto his arms as I started to thrust in time to his
own rhythm, inching me closer and closer to my climax.  I felt it
tingling in my balls, growing stronger, slowly spreading
outwards.  "I'm going to cum!" I gasped just as the pressure
released, sending cold fire along my spine and hot jism shooting
from my cock.  I tried to bury myself as deep as possible inside
him as I shot again, and again, gradually growing weaker as my
orgasm faded.  He stayed on top of me as I softened inside him,
leaning down far enough for us to kiss again.

     We spent the rest of the day in bed, trying out everything
we could think of.  And since then, Greg's become a regular part
of my weekly workout.