Date: Tue, 3 Jan 2017 09:52:06 -0800
From: Gingham Shade <ginghamshade@gmail.com>
Subject: Fuck Me, I Love You Chapter 3

Chapter 3: I Tawt I Taw a Putty Tat

A disclaimer: This story is fictional story. All characters were made up
and any similarities are just coincidental. This is a gay romance between
adults, it's my version of a dominant/sub relationship. So if that offends
you, please discontinue reading. Also, if it is illegal for you to read
such material in your country, you have been warned. I hope you're enjoying
it and that the story draws you in wanting more.

If you have any suggestions or concerns, do not hesitate to email me at
ginghamshade@gmail.com. Thoughts and suggestion are always welcome and may
or may not be implemented. Concerns will be considered and addressed as
much as possible.

AND, if you enjoy the stories on www.nifty.org, please give a donation to
help cover their expenses. While the site is currently free, donations only
from loyal fans can help keep it that way. Any amount will help.

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Anderson could hear the sounds of fucking before he entered the locker
room. He'd never heard a guy moan in high pitch before. The hup-hup sound
of pelvis on ass mesmerized him, each impact pumping a bit more blood into
his now thickening cock. Anderson adjusted his meaty member, feeling the
hardening head escape the edge of his briefs. Stepping in closer, he was
drawn to the dimly lit locker room like a moth to a flame. His heart beat
faster, and the sound of it mixed with each pelvic thrust until he could no
longer tell the two apart.

As he stepped through the threshold, he felt a drop of precum dampen the
front of his pants. His cock was fully hard, sensing the absolute pleasure
of some stud being demolished. Who was it? Anderson ran through the rolodex
of hot guys he saw coming through the gym. There was some red headed guy he
liked, a gorgeous black guy who sometimes gave him a sexy smile...

None of that mattered as his eye locked in on the last shower stall in the
locker room. Steam rose over the shower partitions and the sound of running
water splattered on the ground in little tap-taps each time the massive
body fucked into the anonymous bottom. Anderson gazed at the hulking back
visible from the shower stall, pounding into ass doggy-style like a monster
truck. The dimples on his hairy muscular ass flexed with each thrust.

"Oh fuck you're so fucking big, Sir!" Was it that twinky guy who hung
around the front desk?

The answer ceased to matter because the only thing that mattered was the
man in front of him. The man with thick legs and bulbous calves, and a
gorgeous ass. Every muscle, tendon, and ligament of the man flexed in
jaguar-like synchronicity, methodically ravaging its prey.

"Yeah bitch, you like that big dick? I know you've been hungry for my
cock."

Hup-Hup-Hup-Hup.

Thump-Thump-Thump went Anderson's chest as he took in the beast in front of
him. The arch of his back, the legs...something about this man felt
familiar but he wasn't sure. As his gaze raked up from the ass that pulled
his attention, Anderson tried to glimpse his face. He was blocked by the
shower partition which cut off the visibility of his face. All he could see
was the wet locks of the man's hair drizzling water down the curve of his
spine.

Hup-Hup-Hup-Hup.

That beefy ass was a metronome.

"Oh God please, let me cum, Sir! Fuck you're driving me crazy."

Anderson had pulled out his cock by now, pacing each beat of his hand with
the rhythm of the man's ass. Like the bottom in the shower, Anderson was
getting close, his cock sucked into obedience to the man's complete
dominance. He licked his hand to add a bit of lubricant to his cock,
tasting his own precum. His dick swelled and throbbed in desperate
need. His eyes closed for a second, as the taste of his own cum filled his
nostrils and taste buds. What did the cock of this man taste like? Anderson
imagined himself kneeling by the mysterious man, waiting for him to cum so
that he could clean up the wet cock of this raging stallion.

"Oh FUCCCKKKKKK" The bottom was shooting now. His load hitting the ceramic
tiles of the shower wall in front of him, propelled by the force of
pleasure as his prostate exploded against the thick bulbous cock inside of
him.

Anderson's eyes had snapped open the moment he heard the man's orgasm. He
was losing control too, and just as he was about to cum he realized he knew
the owner of that monstrous body, the sinewy legs, and dimpled ass. He'd
been staring at that back for the past few months, ripping his gaze from it
each time he knew he was staring too long.

"It's Bradley -" he mouthed.

And like a hammer to a firing pin, Anderson came. Cum poured out of him
onto the locker room floor. A single long cumshot took control of his body
and mind, splattering like bloody murder onto the tile floor. A few drops
of cum dribbled out and lubricated his hand as he continued to jerk his
softening cockhead. Anderson basked in this moment of complete bliss,
unable to wrap his mind around what he had just seen. Bit by bit, he came
to his senses, blood finally reaching his brain.

Bradley was getting close and he was telling his bitch as much. He pushed
the bottom off of his cock and spun him around. The blitzed fuck fell to
his knees without opposition and looked up his conqueror. Anderson couldn't
see the action, but he could hear the thud of Bradley's meaty cock striking
his hand as he tempted the bottom with the taste of his cum.

Anderson realized that he needed to get out, and quickly before Bradley
finished. The man's back was still turned away but things were moving
fast. He glanced and saw the locker he used earlier that day slightly
ajar. Inside the corner of his wallet could be seen. Moving quickly, he
silently opened the locker and sneaked his wallet out. His soft cock and
balls were still hanging out of his pants; Anderson couldn't risk being
caught by the sound of a zipper.

"You want this bitch? You wanna swallow my load?"

"OH Fuck, Sir, please. Let me swallow your load, sir."

With a roar Bradley thrust his cock into the guy's mouth. Anderson could
hear the gulping sounds of spit and cock pulsing in and out his desperate
mouth. He edged towards the door but couldn't pull himself away, he needed
to hear Bradley cum; his flaccid cock flooded back with desire. His hands
groped his cock desperately as he was trapped. Deep down Anderson knew he
should be tucking his cock into his pants and making a break for it, but
his brain couldn't get enough blood to execute the command. He looked down
at his wet cock, already hungry again in his hands and tried to do the
right thing.

"Fuck yeah, I'm cominnggggg!"

Anderson's eyes flew up so that he could catch what little was visible from
the shower room stall. Bradley had pressed the gorgeous V of his pelvis
onto the stud's face, and the sounds of gulping echoed through the locker
room. Each gulp was like a knock inside of Anderson, filling him with
longing and thirst, as he pulled at his leaky cock head.

Anderson let out a whimpering moan, tiny and inaudible in comparison to the
noise Bradley was making, but it was all that was needed for everything to
come crashing down. The moment the sound escaped his throat, Bradley's head
turned just a bit, even as he roared his dominance and cum into the bottom
cock slave.

Their eyes met, and Anderson lost another load, this one hitting the frame
of the locker room door. It was smaller and shorter than the first one, but
hit harder, thanks to the power of fear. Anderson's teeth were clenched
hard to silence any further sound of his orgasm. This time there was no
moment to bask. He bolted out of the door, shoving his poor cock and balls
into his pants, almost catching it in the zipper as he left the gym.

The next morning Anderson called in and asked to change trainers.

"You want to drop Bradley? That's unheard of." The front desk receptionist
was shellshocked.

"Yeah, it's just that my schedule's changing a bit and I know he's not
available around noon." Anderson lied.

The receptionist typed a bit, "Yeah...Bradley has a standing appointment at
that time. No worries, I'll let him know the change. I'll set you up with
one of our top guys, you can meet him next time you come in."

Anderson hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. He'd been lucky
to remember that Bradley didn't work around noon. He could get safely in
and out of the gym without reliving his shame.

The next couple of days were difficult. Every time he touched himself,
every time his dick woke him up in the morning, the first image that came
to his mind was Bradley's eyes catching his. They had both been vulnerable
at that moment: Anderson caught watching Bradley and Bradley cumming down
some guy's throat.

Had the guy heard him too? What did they do after he left? Anderson
replayed the scene with a thousand different endings. Maybe they laughed at
the mysterious guy who split after shooting on the doorframe. What if
Anderson had stayed? Would they have entered into a kinky threeway? He beat
off to a million scenarios. The one constant was Bradley's eyes burning
into his soul, giving him permission to cum, letting him taste his huge
throbbing member.

He fell asleep to those eyes.
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Bradley was incredibly irked to get caught by Anderson. He was fond of the
kid and had taken a mentorship role with the younger man. When his
receptionist told him Anderson had changed trainers, he was even more
annoyed.

"Somebody's gotta teach the kid not to cum and run." He grumbled.

It was really stupid to run out like that. Even though his fuck toy had
been too busy guzzling cock to hear anything, it had pulled Bradley's focus
at a critical time. Plus, he had to make the bitch wipe up the cum off the
floor and door jam.

"Was this stuff here when we started? Your gym is like, really dirty."

Bradley almost slapped the guy upside the head.

"Somebody's not getting on my cock again."

Kids these days.

Anderson was now training with one of his former clients. Bradley respected
his privacy enough not to pry, but he did make sure the kid was taken care
of. The kid was making good progress, and he left it at that. During noon
he took his time getting back, just to give the guy some extra space.

One day Bradley got a call from Anderson's trainer: "Hey Boss, I'm really
sick today and I won't be able to make it in, the other trainers can split
my clients but would you be able to take Anderson at noon? I know you block
that time off but I don't want to cancel on him."

Bradley thought about it for a moment and decided it was time to give the
kid a little shit.

"Sure. I'll take him today. Get better soon."

Bradley remembered the hungry cornered look of Anderson's eyes from that
night. Plenty of guys looked at Bradley that way but Anderson was strangely
innocent. Bradley wanted to protect that. But fuck those feelings
today. Today was the day Anderson was going to eat a lot of shit and
Bradley was going to enjoy every second of it. He glanced at his wardrobe
and picked out an extra tight tank top. He selected an 80s style gym short,
the kind that clenched his thighs and you could clearly see his thick veiny
cock sculpted against his leg. He passed on the underwear.

"Hey Anderson, your trainer got sick so I'm filling in for him today."

Anderson looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Looking good there son, I see you've been following through on your
training."

It was true, Anderson's body had changed dramatically over the course of
the past months. The fat on his face had melted away to a sculpted
jawline. His shoulders had filled out and his chest now sported a handsome
valley between his pecs. A sexy vein ran down his arms to wrap around full
biceps and smooth arms. The swimmer's body had returned through hard work
and perseverance.

"Thanks, Bradley, yeah! I've been feeling great and a lot more confident
these days."

Bradley was impressed. He wasn't used to looking at Anderson the way he
looked at most of his prey. The kid was gorgeous. Bradley gripped his
shoulders and sized him up a bit, proud of his own training and the kid's
hard work. Looking into Anderson's eyes, he found the same awkward kid
smiling back at him. It was comforting in a strange way.

"We should get you measured so you can see how far you've come!"

Bradley walked to his office to grab the measuring tape. Still the
consummate professional, he methodically wrapped the tape around Anderson's
chest, biceps, waist, and thighs. He took short breaks between each body
part to scribble some notes down. Anderson's body was quivering, excited
each time Bradley's hands made contact.

Anderson stepped on the scale to clock in at 202 lbs of lean beefcake.

"You're getting closer to having my body," said Bradley.

Anderson turned beet red.

"I'm proud of you Anderson. Changing your body is one of the hardest things
for people to do, and you did it through hard work and discipline."

Beet red turned to flushed pride.

"Thanks! I really appreciate everything you've taught me."

"I got an idea! Would you be willing to be one of my testimonials? We
should take a few pictures of you so people can see the transformation. I
think you'll inspire a lot of people."

Anderson grinned like a little kid.

"You think so? I guess I'd be up for it."

"Sure, you'll be great! I have a little studio set up in my house. You
should stop by this week and we can do a photoshoot. You'd be perfect."

Anderson looked cornered again at the invitation. The idea of being alone
with Bradley photographing him was incredibly erotic. He was also afraid of
what might happen if he lost control. He looked up at Bradley to find the
firm and sexy gaze peering back at him.

Anderson made a decision.

"Hey," He asked, sheepish.

"Would you be willing to train me again?"

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To Be Continued.....