Yesterday, I visited a local gym in the midtown area with a friend (Yes, another gay man). It was chest day, so I felt a little uneasy about not going to Equinox to take care of business in familiar surroundings, but I figured, What the heck lets try something different (You know, variety is the spice of life).
Anyhow, we get there and I start looking around at the various men and then decided to just find a single bench to do dumbbell presses on (both incline & flat presses). This gym had about 5-6 single benches that you could use for DB exercises, all of which were taken.
I suddenly noticed that one particular guy (very attractive, rugged big guy with tattoos) in the far corner of the free weight area actually had taken two (2) benches all for himself. He was doing dumbbell flyes on one bench and then quickly jumping onto the other bench to do skull crushers. In between jumping from bench to bench, he would place a towel on the unoccupied bench and proceed to change between exercises (I know, very clever).
So, I walk over and ask him if he could possibly spare a bench for me to use. He looked at me from top to bottom and said, "No, I'm using them both for circuit training".
I couldn't accept this, so I told him that it's pretty selfish of him to do so and that I could simply use the empty bench as he is alternating with the other exercise, that way he wouldn't skip a beat. I even offered to readjust the bench to the 45 degree angle he was using it at for flyes. This time, he walked up closer and said to me, "Listen you greasy homo, you either let me finish my workout or I'm going to adjust your neck to a 45 degree angle".
Some of you might have instantly felt rage, anger and possibly a desire to inflict physical harm to this jerk, I instead had the opposite reaction. Immediately, I felt turned on by this ogre of a man threatening to hurt me. All of a sudden, I pictured the two of us in bed grappling with each other as he attempted to take hold of my neck and I, in turn, attempted to penetrate his rectum.
Lo and behold, I developed a vicious hard on. For those of you who know my style, I typically wear a nice, tight, pink or purple tank top with a pair of shorts that always fall about 4 inches above the knee on the upper quad area. With this little getup, there was no way of hiding my obvious feelings that began to pitch quite the tent in my shorts.
He looked at me and yelled, "What the fuck is wrong with you, do you have a fucking problem?!?"
I replied, "I do, I have a very, very big problem as you can see below tough guy, now why don't you come over and help me take care of that problem, because hunny I'm about to burst.."
At that point, he took both his towels off the benches, yelled "fuck you" to my face and than spat on one of the benches as he began to slowly walk away. Immediately, I called out to him as I walked over to that same bench covered in saliva, rubbed my hand on the wet spot and then quickly rubbed it against my hard on and said, "Thank you for servicing me, tough guy".
For the rest of that evening, he was no where to be seen..
"1"
