Author: Jesse Gambini
It was a rainy, miserable, chilly, March afternoon. After being cooped up in my apartment for two days watching soap operas and my favorite porn videos, I needed to escape. The four walls were closing in on me. It had been raining for more than a week. I couldn’t remember the last time I had seen the sun.
Since I didn’t have anything better to do, I decided to brave the weather and go to the gym. Everybody, including myself, was in a foul mood due to the weather. I hoped a workout might improve my disposition. I was sick of fucking El Niёo.
Usually I enjoyed working out. Mostly I enjoyed the benefits of working out. In the past two years, I’ve packed on 20 pounds of hard muscle onto my former 150 pound, 5 foot 10 inch body. My friends noticed the difference, and so did I.
When I got to the gym, it was almost empty. I guessed nobody wanted to go out in the rain. I smiled at a few of the regulars on my way to the locker room, then quickly changed into my gym clothes.
I should mention that it’s an all gay gym. For the most part, I pretty much keep to myself, mostly because I can be painfully shy. When I first started working out, I was intimidated by all the hunky guys.
I racked up the weights on the bench press to begin my routine. As I laid down on the bench my eyes caught a glimpse of my favorite guy to ogle at the gym–Chance. Chance wasn’t his real name. I was sure of that. It was his professional name. Chance was one of my favorite porn stars.
Chance wasn’t the only guy who worked out at the gym that I had seen in porn videos or magazines, but he was the best known and the best looking in my opinion. Chance was a stud. Just thinking about him got me drooling. He was about 6 foot 2 inches tall with golden brown hair that he was always brushing out of his eyes. He was built, very beefy with thick muscular shoulders and bulging biceps. He had a broad chest–thick slabs of muscles that were covered in a matt of downy chest hair. The box covers of his videos didn’t do him justice. He had the most intense deep blue eyes, the color of the sea, that seemed to look right through you.
Chance lived at the gym. He was usually there when I worked out and I don’t keep a regular schedule. I would see him working out when I arrived to begin my workout, and he would still be there when I was finished.
I began to pump the barbell up and down, struggling a bit with the weight. My mind began to wander. It wasn’t on working out. I couldn’t stop thinking about Chance. I had rented his latest video a few days earlier and had shot off a couple of quick loads watching him fuck the shit out of several equally hot guys. As I continued struggling with my set, my dick hardened. I was so distracted that I nearly dropped the barbell.
“Let me spot you,” bellowed a voice from behind me. There was no mistaking who it was. It was Chance.
“Thanks,” I said as he positioned himself behind the bench.
I thought I would loose control of the barbell completely when I glanced upward, looking right up Chance’s gym shorts. He was wearing a pair of loose grey shorts and a well worn jock that strained to cover his infamous dick. His dick, well I should say a life-sized replica of his nine inches was sold by mail order houses and in sex shops all over the country. I even had one tucked under my bed at home.
I couldn’t help but stare upward, peering into Chance’s shorts as I forced more reps. After my set, I sat up and paused to catch my breath. My heart was pounding. I always got nervous around guys who turned me on.
“Thanks a lot, I said again. “I guess I’m a little out of practice.” I extended my hand to shake. “My name is Rick, by the way.”
“My friends call me Chance,” he said, smiling. I was certain that he knew that I knew who he was. “Another set?”
I nodded and positioned myself prone on the bench press. Chance scooted up to the press and helped me with the barbell. I couldn’t have been more distracted as I attempted ten reps. It was impossible to remember how many times I had fantasized about this man and now I was flat on my back staring up his shorts.
“One more,” said Chance. “One more.”
As I attempted two more reps, I wished that he was mouthing the words that he said in all of his videos. “suck that cock. suck that big cock.” When I was finished with the set, Chance helped me lower the barbell to the press. I gasped for breath and wiped the sweat off my forehead.
“Another set?” he asked.
“No, I’m done here. Thanks a lot.”
Chance patted me on the back. “See you around,” he said. I practically tented my gym shorts with the throbbing hard-on I was fighting.
“Yeah, sure. “Thanks again.” I blurted out, not being able to think of anything witty to say.
I finished up my chest workout and then worked on my shoulders. I was totally distracted the rest of the time I worked out. Chance flashed me a couple of grins as we passed each other at the water fountain or while we sat in machines opposite of each other.
After my workout, I decided to relax in the hot tub. Chance came into the locker room, after I had been soaking for a few minutes. He quickly stripped down, tossed his shorts and tank top into a locker, grabbed a towel and then positioned himself under the shower.
Whoever had designed the locker room was no fool. The open showers were situated on the wall opposite the hot tub. The place was built for cruising. I had a view of Chance that was even better than the one I had at home watching him on video on my big screen TV.
Chance smiled and then turned, facing away from me. I was in heaven as water cascaded down his shoulders and back. I gasped as Chance slipped his fingers inside his asscrack, soaping himself up. The site of him fingering his firm, round butt was almost too much to bare. My cock was growing, getting harder by the minute. He worked his way downward, soaping up his muscular thighs and legs. I was playing with my dick under the hot water, getting myself totally hard.
Chance rinsed off the soap and then turned around. His eyes locked on mine. I was too nervous so I diverted my stare.
He knew I was watching. He had to know. I was sure he was getting off on it, too. He was a performer after all. He did this for a living. He was a fucking star. Guys like me spent good money renting his videos to watch them in dimly lit rooms with out pants around our ankles. He was a fantasy–a fantasy fuck. Guys wanted to either be with him or be him.
Chance smirked and then began to lather up his broad chest, alternately soaping and rinsing off his matt of chest hair. I was mesmerized when he began soaping up his cock and pair of low hanging balls. As he fondled his dick, it got bigger, continuing to grown until it was half-hard. Chance nodded his head, acknowleding that I was watching. I grasped my cock tighter, slowly stroking it under the hot water.
It was like a scene in one of his videos. Steam filled the shower area. The sound of splashing water echoed off the porcelain tile walls. The only thing that was missing was his co-star–the hunky guy who would slip into the shower and then drop to his knees and begin to suck Chance’s cock. I wanted to be that man, but I was too timid to approach. Guys like me never stood a chance with guys like Chance. For all I knew, he was getting off on teasing the shit out of me.
I watched Chance as he shampooed his hair and then rinse off. He stood silently under the spray of water, his mouth turned upward into a mischievous grin. His cock was almost completely hard now. He stepped out from underneath the shower, his dick dangling between his legs. Chance grabbed his towel and was gone from my view. Frustrated, I stayed in the hot tub until my hard-on went down.
When I heard the locker room door slam shut, I quickly showered, changed and got ready to face the weather again. I had another uneventful evening at home watching television to look forward to. I’d probably jerk off before going to bed fantasying about Chance in the shower.
Chance was chatting with the guy at the front desk when I went to get my membership card. When I asked for my card, the guy behind the desk seemed annoyed that I had interrupted their conversation.
“See you,” said Chance. He dashed out the front door, my eyes locked on his butt as the door slammed behind him.
The guy behind the desk handed me my membership and scowled.
It was drizzling when I stepped outside. Chance was waiting on the sidewalk in front of the gym.
“What took you so long?” he asked.
“You didn’t jerk off in the jacuzzi?”
I laughed and started to blush. “No, but I wanted to.” What was I going to tell him–the truth?
Chance laughed. “Most of the members have jacked off in that hot tub at one time or another.”