Date: Sat, 1 Mar 2014 00:41:29 -0500
From: Mads van Duessen <madsvand@gmail.com>
Subject: Gym Stretch 12

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Part 12 – Gym Stretch

Well that made my life a ton more complex!  Since I'd been a freshman in
college, I don't think I'd used the term "make love" . . . before a half
hour ago, when my need for Jack was uncontrollable, and I'd needed his cock
in me, fucking me, seeding me . . . again.

"You think you just made a huge mistake, don't you?"

Jack's soft words interrupted my reflection on the doom of my situation.
He tightened his arm around me, and his grip on me caused my face to rub
against his perfectly furred pec I was laying on.  "Sort of," I couldn't
avoid admitting.

Jack just held me tight.

My mind was racing on a multitude of simultaneous tracks.  Most of them
were panic, fear, flight, confusion, regret.  But there was this one track
that was squelching any significance to the others – satisfaction.

"We're right where we should be, Mads," Jack said, still softly, but with
an authority that resonated in my consciousness and strengthened that
satisfaction.

I didn't DO "love".  Hell, I didn't even do "dating".  I was strictly cock
and carry, as one of my close friends joked.  I was the sexually predatory
version of a quick retail sale.  And he was right, of course.  I'd been
that way for an entire decade, having retreated to that after losing the
man-boy whom I thought at the time was my one true chance at love.

Yet then, there, when my ways were deeply engrained, I'd known this man for
less than a full day, I'd taken eight or ten or eleven of his loads, and I
had NEEDed him to make love to me.  And he did, without words of love,
without gentleness, but in a passionate frenzy which matched my need to his
perfectly, the way MEN made love to each other.

I tightened my own grip on Jack, my arm over his sculpted abs, my hand
holding his rock hard obliques as tight as I could.  Jack "Hmmmmmmmmmmmm"ed
and rubbed his face against the top of my head and kissed my scalp.  The
background tracks in my head blurred and quieted.

After some time I realized that I hadn't even considered diverting us from
this moment of intense intimacy by stroking his beautiful cock, the root of
which was against my elbow, or rubbing his magnificent balls.  God knew, if
love was involved, I'd fallen in love with those first, probably the first
moment I saw them hanging out of his gym shorts leg during that
intentionally expository stretch the prior afternoon.

"I could lay here with you," Jack's deep soft voice again invaded my
introspection, "For a long, long time," he continued.  "I'd be very happy
just like this."

"Well, not JUST like this," I snarked.  "Round after round of fucking has
to be part of the deal, doesn't it?"

Jack chuckled and hugged me tighter.  "Even if I wanted to say that wasn't
a huge part of what we have, Mads, it wouldn't be credible, would it?"

"Neither credible nor palatable," I agreed.

The last thing I remember from that moment was Jack's easy chuckle at my
reply and another kiss on my scalp, along with his loud inhalation of my
scent . . . just as I was inhaling his from his sweaty chest fur.

When I awoke it was over an hour later, and we were still in the same
position, me on his chest, his arm around me.  I was aware without seeing
or feeling it in his body that Jack was awake also.  I moved my head enough
to see the clock on the side of my bed and saw it was nearly four.  "Still
interested in hitting the gym?" Jack asked.

This time it was I who chuckled.  "Well, let's see.  Last time you were at
the gym, Mr. Torrenz, a slut picked you up and you took him home and he
kept your cock occupied for the better part of the next day.  I'm not sure
I want to run the risk of that happening again."

Jack laughed out loud.  When he settled a little he was suddenly grave in
his tone and said, "I'll ignore the `slut' comment this time, Mads, but
you're talking about an amazing and wonderful man who's come into my life,
and I won't tolerate any further talk like that about him."

He paused, and I knew he wanted me to acknowledge what he'd said, but I
knew myself and couldn't bring myself to refute my assessment.  I squeezed
him and kissed his hairy pec in lieu of a verbal answer.

"So," he continued, seeming satisfied at my non-verbal response, "If I have
anything to say about it, I'll leave the gym this afternoon with that same
wonderful man again and, if he lets me, spend the next day with him, too.
OR, just skip the gym, and we'll just spend that time just us, together,
too."

With a suddenness that surprised even me, I pulled up and away and was out
of the bed and on my feet looking down at Jack.  And oh, what a studly
sight he was laying there on my bed naked, dried cum and sweat in his fur,
looking so irresistible I almost just jumped him again.  Before I succumbed
to the urge, I turned toward my bathroom.  "Shower time, stud, then we hit
the gym."

I heard Jack getting up as I headed into the bathroom.  "Hey got any
water?" he called.

Around the corner in the fridge," I yelled.  "I'll start the shower.  Grab
me one!"

I had the water running and was finishing taking a piss when Jack was back.
When I finished and turned around, he was looking at me funny.  "What?"

He handed me the water.  "Um, your refrigerator . . . "

"Yeah?"

"Well, it's not exactly well-stocked, unless you consider bottled water a
balanced diet."

I threw my head back and laughed.  "I never claimed to be good in the
kitchen," I said, and we both got in my shower.

"Oh, but you were," he smirked, facing me.

"Well, not cooking, anyway."

We both laughed and managed to keep ourselves focused on the shower and not
on the temptation to let our frequent touches and kisses turn to more.
Surprisingly, we accomplished that even drying each other.

"I need to get gym clothes at my place."

"You can wear some of mine, if you want," I offered.

"Uh, I don't think that'll work," Jack said with a grin and looked down.

I realized Jack was looking at my feet.  My shoe size fourteen feet to be
precise.  "Oh, yeah."

"If we both go to my place for me to get my gym stuff, there's no way we'll
get out of there without fucking."

I'd been brushing my teeth in one sink while he was doing the same, with a
hotel toothbrush I'd kept from a trip and hadn't used, and he and I met
eyes in the mirror.  He was grinning around his toothbrush, toothpaste foam
running down the corner of his mouth.

"Is that an invitation, stud?" I mugged.  He just laughed.

"Well, I guess that's it," I moaned.  "You've had enough of me and now my
overtures are just laughable."

Jack's eyes met mine again in the mirror, his face clearly indulging me.
"We'll see who's laughing when we're at the gym, and your ass is crying
with your every movement!"

I couldn't argue with that.  The hot water in the shower almost made me
cry, and cleaning myself I just had to concentrate on the bliss of the
cause and try to put the after-effect out of my thoughts.

When we were dressing, Jack suggested, "Why don't you bring some things,
and we'll go to my place after the gym."

"We could do that, or we could come back here," I retorted without even
realizing that I'd not even resisted the idea of us spending our time
together going forward.

Jack smiled and shot a quick glance around my bedroom and to the sitting
room and then, a little forced, he returned his look to my bed and grinned.
"I can be VERY comfortable here, too."  He waggled his eyebrows.
"Whichever you prefer."

"Before we decide, let me grab a power bar.  Want one?"

"Yeah," Jack said, and he headed toward the kitchenette.  "Hey, where are
you going?" he asked, when he realized I was going toward a door.  "Oh,
we're going to grab the power bar on the way?"  I had my hand on the
doorknob.  "Hey you didn't grab your things."

I just turned around and smiled, and then I opened the door.  "C'mon –
let's get a power bar in the kitchen." Jack's look was confused, as I'd
intended.  But he followed me as I went into the hall.

We walked together, and he figured it out.  "Oh, I thought –" and Jack
broke off, looking around.

We emerged from the hall into an open area of my condo after having passed
a couple of rooms in the hall.  Jack chuckled softly, taking a look around.
"My kitchen isn't anything compared to yours, by the way," I joked,
rounding a corner into the large area that was my dining room and kitchen.

I went to my walk-in pantry and grabbed a few bars and then came back and
put them on the counter.  "Help yourself.  And take a look around.  I'm
actually pretty proud of the place."

"It's great!"

I blushed.  "Well, it's nothing like yours, but it's mine, and it's
basically everything I own, because I had to put every dime I had into
buying it, and it was a total wreck of a foreclosure.  I did all the work
myself – I couldn't have afforded it any other way.

Jack had taken a little walkabout, checking out a couple of other rooms,
and he touched some woodwork and had run his hand over the limestone
fireplace appreciatively.  His smile of appreciation filled me with pride.

"Really nice, Mads."

I was blushing by then.  I looked down, and I pushed the pile of bars
toward him on the light granite island.  "Grab a bar, and let's go get you
some gym clothes and work out."

We walked a few blocks, and, as we were approaching the gym, which he
passed on our way to Jack's building, he suggested that in order to ensure
we actually did go to the gym I should go on in and he'd grab his gym
clothes and come back.  It really was the best idea.

Just when I'd finished a fifteen minute warm-up on the elliptical and was
heading toward the workout floor, I saw Jack come in.  He'd gotten into his
gym clothes at home and came in that way.  And he looked stunning, taking
my breath away as he had the first time I saw him.  Jack grinned widely
when we saw me and came straight to me.  He came to me, too close to be
appropriate, and then he kissed me, without the slightest hesitation.

I was surprised, but I also loved the possessiveness of it – Jack just
walked right to me, clamped his free arm around my waist, pulled me in and
kissed me square on the mouth.  I stood for a moment stunned –
pleasantly so – and he hadn't moved away from me, just grinned at me.
Then a thought occurred to me, and I reached down and took hold of him
through his gym shorts.

"Yours," he said simply, his look having morphed from a grin to a devilish
leer.  "I can't wait to smell it when my sweat is mixed with yours."

My body tensed with a frisson of excitement.  It was my filthy jock strap
he'd appropriated from me.  He'd done me one better.  I'd expected he might
show up freeballing again, just to tease me.  Instead he went beyond.

"AND the cumload I shot in it jacking off with this jock strap in my
kitchen this morning," he added, quietly.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuccccccccccckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" I exclaimed in a raspy
whisper.

"THAT comes AFTER the workout!" he said, and he lasciviously licked his
lips.  Then he gave me a push away.  "The faster we . . . "  He waggled his
eyebrows and headed off to the cardio room.  I enjoyed his swagger as he
went, but it did nothing to help ease the tightness in my jock strap.

I snapped out of it when a guy I knew from work lightly punched me in the
shoulder as he was passing by and, throwing his head toward Jack, and then
looking pointedly down at my tented gym shorts crotch, said, "Good job
bagging that one, M – he's a hottie!"

I felt myself blush with intensity.  My work mate chuckled and went on.
Which is what I did . . . after I adjusted myself as best I could to not be
so obvious.

I was about ten minutes away from being finished and found Jack in the
free-weight area to ask how much longer he'd be.  His shirt was soaked with
sweat, which made my breath catch, and I moved in closer to inhale his
scent, which made my head spin a little.

"That work?" I heard him saying with a laugh, and I focused on his face.
He was indeed laughing . . . and I'd apparently been perving on his sweaty
wet t-shirt.  "I said I can be done in about ten minutes.  Wanna spot me on
presses?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows at me.

I tried to pull myself together.  "Ummmm, sure," I stammered.  "I, uh, I
could do some presses myself."  It wasn't really on my schedule, and when I
did do bench presses I usually did them on the machines, but I also really
wanted to watch Jack's muscles ripple and roll as he worked them.

Jack loaded and I loaded up the barbell with weights, me following his
lead, intimidated when he added the third twenty-five pounder to his side
and went back for a ten.  I also followed his muscular forearms' movements
as his muscled rolled and his biceps flexed as he set up the weights.

When he lay down on the bench, I couldn't take my eyes off his formidable
package – the mound was prominent, and I licked my lips for what lay
beneath.  It suddenly struck me that if he'd jacked off into my jock strap
while I was still sleeping this morning, we weren't even as far as times
we'd cum after all.  The question was, did he owe me a load because I'd
missed that one or was I owed an orgasm of my own to even the score.

"Earth to Mads."

I snapped my eyes down at Jack laying ready, arms up, hands in his workout
gloves already on the bar, ready.  "Sorry," I stammered, getting into
position to spot him.

"Mmmmmm," he said up into the leg of my gym shorts, and I blushed and
laughed like a girl.  "Any time you want to apologize by putting that hot
ass over my face, feel free!" he teased.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you going to lift that or just fondle the bar?" I teased
him right back.

And then he did – lifted it off the rack, seemingly without effort and
took it down to his chest and did eight reps before he even showed a sign
of needing my help to raise it up.  And even then he got through two more
with me at the ready but unneeded.  It had taken all my force of will to
not concentrate on his muscles rippling under his shirt and his amazing
furry arms as he manhandled that weight up and down, but concern for him
with so much weight won out, with the visual delight staying in the
background.

We adjusted the weight for the considerably lower amount I was going to
lift, and I got myself positioned.  And then so did Jack . . . right above
my face as I was over him . . . and the urge to reach up into his gym
shorts and grab that heavy package in my jock's pouch he was wearing was
tough to fight back.  We weren't alone in the free weight area, not by far,
but he was just so inviting, and the waft of his sweat on his corded furry
legs next to my head and his crotch sweat mixed with my jock funk was
almost overwhelming.

"Today, Van Duessen," he said above me with mock irritation.  "I'd like to
get my next set in before we have a rest day in between."

I snorted and focused on my breathing and form and went through my ten with
just the slightest assist from him when I was moving the bar back onto the
rack.  Jack had counted out my reps, unlike my silent spot of him, and he'd
added encouragement for the final couple, which were almost more than I
could do but not quite.

"Great job!" he said, putting his hand down and pulling me up off the
bench.  And then, when I was standing, he tossled my hair and gave the nape
of my neck a manly caress.  My entire body went warm and mushy from the
touch and from the look of pride in his eyes.  But just as quickly I was
reminded of my own complete and utter inadequacy in the relationship
department.  Jack had lifted half again what I had, probably twice his body
weight, and I hadn't even thought to give him encouragement, much less the
recognition for what he had done.  As we were re-adding weight to get it up
to his level for his next set, he stopped and said, "I know you're not
upset that I lifted more than you, so what is it?"

I was obviously showing my upset.  It was upset with myself for letting
this go on, for letting myself get in deeper than I could handle, to be
required – expected! – to give more than I knew how to give.  For an
instant I thought it was too fast, but I wasn't going to fool myself.  It
was out of my wheelhouse, that's what it was.  I wanted his cock, and
that's all I thought about – not him, not the feat of strength even or
the recognition he deserved and encouragement to achieve more, but just
objectifying him and his amazing body.

"Hey, what is it?"  He was on my end of the barbell now, his hand on my
shoulder, and I suddenly couldn't face him, couldn't do it.  "Mads?"

"I think I have to go, Jack," I said, my eyes on the floor, and I started
to turn away.

"LOOK AT ME," he ordered sternly.  And I did.  More softly, his hand still
on my shoulder but now squeezing it, "You go, I go.  That's the deal here."
His eyes were compassionate but also determined as he stared me down.  When
I started to look down, his other hand lifted my chin back, and I looked at
him again.  "NO clue what's going on in your handsome head, Mads, but we're
still together here, out on this limb, and I'm not letting go of you."

I kind of choked.  Jack just kept his hand on my shoulders, his hand from
my chin had landed on the other, looking square at me.  "I, uh," I started,
but I couldn't even tell what I was thinking, it was all swirling so fast
in my fucked-up brain.  I mean, I really didn't want to go anywhere that
wasn't with him, but I also knew this was going to crash and burn at some
point near in the future, so . . .

"Hey, whatever's going on in there, sexy boy, WE are out here, together."
He gave my shoulders a squeeze and then massaged my traps with his
fingertips.  His touch made my body relax, and I hadn't even realized I'd
tensed up.  "Better," he cooed.  "How about we finish our workout?"

He was smiling up at me.  He winked at me at the same time he squeezed my
shoulders.  And then I could move again, and I nodded my head.

It wasn't a minute before I was transfixed by his undulating muscles as he
worked that barbell up and down, and every rep I counted out for him, like
he had for me, and as he was nearing the end I shouted "C'MON!" and "That's
IT!" and "YEAH, ONE MORE!" and the like, cheering him through a huge groan
and final lift.  I almost yanked his arm out of its socket when he let go
of the bar in the rack at the end, and I grabbed his hand and pulled him up
and into a chest bump.  "FUCK YEAH!" I shouted, gathering some stares and
not caring in the slightest.

"GodDAMN you're hot!" Jack said to me in a low voice, grinning.  "Let's get
these reset and get your next set done, so I can watch the way your balls
bounce in your jock strap and your asscheeks clench when you're getting all
aggressive and cheering me!"

I know I blushed from head to toe at that, the thought of him straining and
lifting and keeping his eyes up my shorts setting me afire.  "And then
we're OUT OF HERE!" I said, practically throwing the extra plates down as I
got them off the bar.

It was my condo we went back to when we left the gym because it was two
blocks closer, and those two blocks might have made the difference between
our freedom and a lewd public acts charge.  We were that worked up.  It
could have been the slight squat I did on Jack's face the last set when I
had to help get the barbell back on the rack and felt how heavy it really
was.  OK, so I'm pretty sure that's what turned us from expectant to urgent
and determined.

We were all over each other as soon as we got in the elevator, and each of
us banged our backs against the elevator car walls when we pulled back
suddenly and forcefully from the heated clench we'd been in when the doors
started to open.  Gasping for breath, Jack followed me out of the elevator
and headed to the back door to my condo.  When I was entering the code, he
stopped me as I opened the door.

"Mads, you have to be sore."

"You're damn fucking right I am after riding your monster horsecock for
twenty-four hours!" I shot back with a lear and reached down and grabbed
hold of his monster raging in his gym shorts.  "And I intend to be a WHOLE
lot sorer very soon!"  I yanked him by his cock through my doorway.

We were both laughing as we tumble-stumbled through the hall, grabbing at
each other as we made our way to my bed.  I flung myself back on my bed
and, before I stopped bouncing, had my legs in the air, yanking off my
sneakers, socks, gym shorts and jock strap and flinging them about, never
taking my eyes off Jack, who was frantically getting out of his gym kit.

Jack dove onto me on the bed, and I caught him and wrapped my arms and legs
around him and ground myself into him as I bit his ear.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!" he spat, and he turned his teeth
on my neck and pulled up what I knew would end up to be a prominent visible
mark.  I hissed and clawed at his buttcheeks and clenched my legs tighter
around him, my body doing its best to guide his cock back inside me.

"Hey hey hey."  He pulled back.  "I don't have to fuck to get off, Mads –
there are plenty of other ways for us to enjoy ourselves without making you
more sore, without hurting you."

I met Jack's eyes, his almost-wistful smile ALMOST distracting me.  And
then I caught myself, and my eyes narrowed and I demanded with utter
intensity, "FUCK me NOW!"  For good measure I ground myself into his raging
bone.

I actually got enough purchase to get the enormous head of his gargantuan
fucktool under me and ground my fuckhole into it.  Jack really pulled back
then and, with one hand firmly on my chest holding me down, he moved away.
"STOP IT!" he commanded firmly, a very stern, maybe even angry look on his
face.  I was stunned, and I had no earthy idea what I'd done.

I guess my look of bewilderment was as intense as my sense of it.  Jack's
face softened, and he rubbed my chest gently.  "Hey, what I mean is there's
no way I'm going to rip you up slamming into you without lube, without
preparation, particularly after you should probably already be on the
injured list."

"I WANT you to fuck me!" I was more defiant then than I was ignited.  In
response, Jack backed up until he was a little straighter, and my heels
slipped off his butt and onto the bed.  His gaze remained intense, our eyes
locked.

I caved on the defiance and wilted into pleading.  "Please, Jack.  I want
you.  I need you.  Now, Jack, please?"  Even to me I sounded pathetic
begging.

Jack's big warm hand again caressed my chest.  And he reached down for my
foot with his other hand and brought it up, as if he was lifting my legs to
give me what I wanted, but instead he kissed the arch of my foot gently.
Heat flashed through me from that right foot all the way to the hair
follicles on my head.  He rubbed the ball of my foot with his thumb as he
kissed my heel.  The flames were hotter inside me.  He kissed my Achilles
tendon and then moved up my leg over my calf and shin to the back of my
knee.

I was writhing and begging for him to fuck me, actually babbling more like
it, as my desire was restoked with every flick of his lips on my skin.
When Jack moved his other hand from my chest and took hold of my left foot
and brought it toward his mouth, I moaned plaintively, attempting something
like a renewed plea for him to DO me but it came out long and loud but not
articulated.

I tried intermittently to claw at him and pull him onto me, into me.  I
tried to wrap my legs around him even though he had my feet in the air,
bending down between my legs to lick and kiss my thighs.  Even though I did
manage words frequently, Jack never said anything, his sounds were of
licks, smacks and appreciative moans.  And then he licked my balls, and my
body spasmed as hard as if I was cumming.  That didn't deter Jack at all –
he just kept to his agenda, and I was engulfed in waves of pleasure and
craving more at the same time.

When Jack took my cock into his mouth I shouted, protesting, struggling
each word.  "I. CAN'T. HOLD. OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF."  And Jack just
sucked me DEEP into his throat, and then my body was exploding.

I could have been completely out of touch with all reality other than the
wave of pleasure buffeting me for minutes – hell for hours I had no idea
– but I began to feel my cock and balls being massaged, and I realized I
was far too sensitive for it and threw my eyes open as I shrieked and tried
to pull back and grab Jack's hands to make him stop.

Jack was smiling down at me beatifically yet lewdly, and he did stop his
hands.  But only for a moment.  When I relaxed my grip, he again rubbed my
too-sensitive head, and I bucked and yelled.  "God I love this," he growled
. . . and did it again.

That time I got my hand on the back of his neck as my body flew forward in
a wracking spasm, and I pulled my eyes to his.  "You're still going to FUCK
me!" I growled right into his face.

"Oh, yes, I am," he said, his gaze almost transfixed, his warm breath in my
face like a blast from a furnace that shot through me to my toes.  "But not
right now."  Before I could shout my dissatisfaction with that, he bent
down and kissed me gently, stifling my protest with his lips.

Although I tried to amp up the kiss, the kiss was throttled to gentle
persistent passion by Jack, and I soon floated away into it, wrapping my
arms tightly around him and clinging to him.  Jack wangled his arms under
me and held me as tight as I held him.  It went on and on, and my body
transcended our reality back to nearly the waves of pleasure breaking over
and through me as when I'd cum.

When we finally broke the kiss, it was as if I was coming down from another
orgasmic loss of consciousness, physical reality beyond the two of us
slowly coming into focus around us.  What I saw as my eyes cleared was
Jack's handsome face suspended above mine, smiling – glowing actually –
as he gazed at me.

His smile morphed to a devilish grin.  "FOR that record, that now makes us
even on the climaxes we've each had, including my stolen one with your jock
strap this morning."  I couldn't help but laugh.  And when I started to
counter with something lame about since I wasn't there it didn't count and
he really NEEDED to blast one up my ass, he kissed me again before the
first syllable was finished.  It was every bit as good as the first, and
also every bit as controlled, prolonged and transcendent.

"How about this, my oversexed stud?"  His voice was low in volume and tone
and oh so sexy it made me flush before I even heard his proposition.  "Give
me that one.  Let me just enjoy the way you enjoyed us together.  There's
no question there will be PLENTY more."

"But—" I started.

"If that's an attempt to get me to kiss you again just to shut you up, you
don't need to use that as inducement."

His grin was tinged with that glow again, the one that made me weak and
calm and safe and everything was just the way it should be.  I was
powerless to reply.

"I'll take that as your understanding that there will be MUCH kissing in
our very long future together."  I tensed at that, the fear like a
lightning strike through me.  "Noooooo," he cooed softly, increasing his
hug around me.  "I've got you.  WE'VE got each other," he said.

As my heart rate was returning to normal, Jack got us to where we were
side-by-side on the bed, on our sides, him holding me spooned against his
chest.  His warm breath on my neck was calming, and his warm furry torso
against my back felt like it was molded to me.  "We've got each other,
Mads," he whispered in my ear, his arms tight around me.  "And we're right
where we should be at our one-day anniversary point," he added with a
gentle kiss to my neck.

I nuzzled my entire body back into him tighter even than we already were,
and I kissed his muscular furry arm that was across my chest.  And I
relaxed into the fantasy that we were indeed exactly where we should be.


If you enjoyed yourself reading this and want to send me feedback, it's
welcome: madsvand@gmail.com.

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