Date: Tue, 23 Dec 2014 05:31:59 -0500
From: Breed Pig <breedpig@gmail.com>
Subject: WHAT I BECAME, PART 1

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This story is mostly fictional. Portions may be fictionalized accounts of
the author, EXCEPT WHEN INDICATED.

It contains descriptions of sexual
interactions between males.

All copyrights belong to the author.  All Rights Reserved.
May not be republished outside of nifty.org without the author's permission.

Comments very much welcome at breedpig@gmail.com


WHAT I BECAME, PART 1


We've seen each other for months, several times a week.  No, I'm not
talking about dating, but rather I see him/them at the gym probably often
enough that it's not just accidental.  Maybe we've found each other's
schedules and we get to the gym at the same times.  Maybe it's
subconscious.  Maybe it's just accident and coincidence.  Maybe
it's...maybe.

We haven't ever had a single conversation.  There's been some talking, but
that's different. I noticed his wedding ring fairly early on.  I don't know
why, but I always notice if they're married or not. I think I have a
fetish.

He's in pretty good shape, on the lean side but he has big shoulders —
like softballs — and when he wears a loose-fitting tank top it's obvious
that he chest is well defined, even through all that chest hair.

He's blondish, but that chest hair that I can't stop looking at it much
darker.  Unlike most men these days, he's clean-shaven.  And that's fucking
hot.

I know it's not stalking.  He looks at me as much as I look at him.  There
haven't been any smiles or anything at all cruisy going on.  Lord knows
I've tried. I like that he looks back.  Makes me feel like I'm not just
stalking, or that I'm making him uncomfortable.  It just is what it is.

And what does he see when he looks back?  I'm on the short side, hairy
pretty much all over.  I'd say "they say I'm handsome", but I know I am.
This isn't conceit, it's just refusing to go with some kind of false
modesty. And my self-image has improved remarkably over the past couple of
years as I've lost some weight and gained a shit-load of muscle mass.

I'm sure if this married dude and I measured, my shoulders would be lots
bigger than his: it's just that with him being on the trim side, they
*look* bigger.  And they are more defined.

I'm not so much cut as what you'd call beefy.  Meaty, even.  47" chest, 34"
waist, 23" quads, 16" arms. I'm 5'7".  Blue eyes just like the married guy.
My hair is darker than his, though I keep the hair above my neck buzzed
short: a decade ago when I was in the Air Force for a 2-year stint I
learned how easy it is to take care of hair this short.  When it's grown
out, it's curly, and by now I'm sure there are a few stray grays in it.

I don't touch the hair on my body, though: I'm not a Bear and not one of
those people who has an opinion on body hair one way or the other, except
maybe to say it'd be way too much effort to keep this much body with this
much hair groomed all the time.

Besides, I know how much just about any man loves my furry ass, and though
my head-hair may be darker than the married guy's my body hair is blondish.
Meaning that I'm much hairier in real life than most pics would indicate.

And I love doing legs at the gym.  It's my favorite workout.  Partly
because I end up so exhausted and relaxed afterwards, but the one showoff-y
think I allow myself during workouts is letting them all see how big and
rounded my ass is. I'll always choose the squat machines and bench that let
them all see my ass when I'm exercising it.

Legs day is also the one day I'm guaranteed to stick around in the locker
room afterwards, spending time in the steam room.  Lots of time.  As much
time as I can stand in that kind of heat.  I could say it's to make sure my
legs are cooled down and being taken care of properly, but really?  Showing
my ass off, even clothed, makes me horny as hell.

The steam room at my gym is large, and you have to go through the shower
area to get to it.  Which means it's also somewhat private.  Gym employees
regularly go through and check on things, but there's always enough time to
rub one out — preferably with others watching or better, joining in.

Today was one of those days, and today I showed up at the gym already
pretty goddamned horny.  I hadn't gotten off in a couple of days and I was
anticipating having a *great* legs day.  And my married dude walked in
right behind me, was standing in line right behind me to check in with the
front desk.

I knew he had a great view of my ass, and I'd hoped that on the long walk
through the gym back to the locker room, he'd be watching my ass the whole
way.  I don't know if he was, I was just hoping so.

And if he wasn't looking at it then, I know I caught him a few times
staring as I was doing squats, staring as I did reps on the calf machine.
staring as I did lunges.

I got on an elliptical after I was done.  Not for cardio, just to cool down
a bit.  That's when I saw him head off into to the locker room.  Dammit!

I'd just started the elliptical's program and didn't want to just step back
off and follow him.  So I completed just a five-minute session and headed
into the locker room myself.

And my married guy was nowhere.  I wandered about the lockers trying to
look like I wasn't wandering about the lockers, wasn't looking for someone.
I figured that the few guys that were in there thought I was just some mook
who forgot which locker he'd stored his stuff in.

Still, the married dude was nowhere.  Had I missed him when he left?
Sometimes he didn't bother showering at the gym...he'd just grab his gear
and leave.  Shit.

I quickly stripped, and grabbed my towel: regardless of what body parts I'm
working out on any given day, I never wrap the towel around me.  I just
hold it in front of me.  I figure that's the right mix of modesty and
showing off.

I hung up my towel, then wet myself down in a shower stall to get rid of at
least some of the stink.  Then I headed right into the steam room.

At first I thought I was alone — sadly — but then I saw them: my
married man was sitting on the lower level, also buck-ass naked, and there
was another guy in there with him sitting near-but-not-too-near him.

They were absolutely still and looking forward, which was every kind of
betrayal that my entrance had them abruptly stop whatever was going on.
Score!

I walked past the two and sat at the first level as well, but against the
back wall at 90-degrees from those two.  This way I could look at them and
also look ahead if that seemed too intrusive.  I was also precisely aware
that my right knee was less than a meter away from my married guy's left
knee.  Quite a bit closer in fact.

After settling in a little, I leaned back against the relatively cold tile
and closed my eyes.  My hands were at my sides, not in my lap.  Even though
my dick isn't by any means the biggest, I'm not one of those growers: I'm a
show-er.  My cock is thick and lays to the left when it's soft.

I opened my eyes to the tiniest slits, knowing the steam would prevent the
men from seeing that I was now looking at them. And both were looking at
me, not towards each other.

Had I been wrong about them messing around a bit?  No!  They both resumed
stroking their own cocks while checking me out.  After a couple of minutes,
the other guy started trying to get my married guy's attention, obviously
wanting to finish messing around, having assumed that I was not one of
those guys who did that kind of thing in the steam room.

He quickly became frustrated and got up and left.  My married dude didn't
break his stare at me.  So I spread my legs more, causing my cock to move a
bit and start to get hard even though I didn't want it to (at least not
yet), and hadn't touched it.

My married guy started stroking his cock faster, and when a slight groan
had escaped him I took that as a cue to open my eyes and sit up.  This
time, he didn't stop his slow-stroke of what I could now see was a
significantly larger cock than my own.  Oh, mine was probably nearly as
thick a his, but my 6" was no match for what had to be at least 8" of hard
dick.

In moments my cock was fully erect even though I still hadn't touched it: I
know how these things play out. Although married, the guy wanted dick.  And
this was his way of getting it. In fact, he was probably an enthusiastic
cocksucker.

That's a bit one-sided for my taste, and it did ding my impression of him a
little bit, but he was still fucking hot, his chest hair now matted down
like a carpet across pecs big enough to still give form under all that fur.

My cock strained even more and though he probably couldn't see it, I could
feel a big glob of precum running down the front of my fully hard shaft.

He began stroking in earnest, and with he had a clear goal. The married guy
was getting off looking at me, and he had every intention of actually
getting himself off there in the steam room.


As fucking hot as that is, more than once I've had a bare foot land in
someone else's jizz load left on the tile floor of the steam room.  Not hot
at all. Gross, in fact.  It's just messy sticky crud at that point.

My eyes were wide open, and openly staring at him.  When I looked to his
face, we made eye contact.  I couldn't help but keep on staring.  At some
point my own hand and gripped my thick cock and was stroking as well.  It
was a little disturbing to me that I couldn't pinpoint the exact time I
started beating off.  But that didn't stop me, and my married man was only
speeding up, getting closer to cumming.  He'd also shifted his body and was
sitting much closer to me.  I spread my legs a big further to let my balls
hand down freely and in doing so, my knee touched against his.

That was enough for me to almost shoot my own load, but I managed to get
myself quickly back under control.  When I looked back at him, he was
smiling at me: he knew the effect he'd had on me!

It's not like I wasn't producing a similar reaction with him, not like he
didn't also know that: we were two men staring at each other stroking our
cocks.  It looked like two separate activities going on, or would have
looked like that, but our knees were still touching and in fact our feet
and calves were now against each other as well.

He leaned his head back, still looking at me, and stroked even faster.  I
knew he was about to shoot and honestly, mess or no mess on the steam room
floor, so was I.

But that's when he stood up, took just the one step required to be directly
in front of me, and put his had on the back of my head. With his other
hand, he guided his cock to my face and pushed at least a couple of inches
of it past my lips and into my mouth.

I reacted to the surprise by trying to back away, but his hand held my head
firmly in place.  He stroked the part of his cock not inside my mouth once
or twice and started shooting.  I felt the first volley hit the back of my
throat, but I didn't gag or try to pull away again: I let it happen.

Another blast hit the back of my throat again, and then he slid his cock
back so that only the head was in my mouth.

By the time he was done shooting, 4 or 5 more ropes of cum had landed on my
tongue.  I didn't move, just looked up at him.

He finally withdrew his cock, removed his hand from the back of my head and
used it to close my mouth.

"Swallow," he said in a low voice.

The commanding presence in his voice had me doing so before I realized I
had done it.

This produced a huge grin on his handsome face, making him all the more
attractive.  "Woulda been rude to make a mess on the floor in here," he
said.

I reached out for his cock, but he gently pushed my had aside.  He turned
and then walked out of the steam room leaving me with a painfully erect
cock and the taste of his married-man semen still on my tongue.