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Besides," he gave his cock an absent minded pull, "when you get hard you just gotta take care of it sometimes, ya know?"Īnchor-Guy made eye contact with me, before he let his gaze drift downward, "Looks like you gotta take care of something yourself." He smiled ruefully and shook his head, "Wake her up in the middle of the night to fool around? She'd probably rip it off. "Well." I ventured, "I mean you could always ask her to give you a hand. Anchor-Guy was still facing me, still hard, and was just nonchalantly enjoying the heat and pressure of the locker room showers. I took a few steadying breaths, I was still fresh from my workout and I think I was feeling light-headed. He chuckled, "Wish I could, but it'd probably wake up my girlfriend." I'll probably do that as soon as I get home." OH MY GOD WHAT DID I JUST SAY? I mechanically turned around, turned up the heat, and pondered drowning myself under the showerhead. "S-sorry, the w-water was cold," I stammered, still getting drenched in ice. This time he did turn, and I got a view of smooth prominent pecs and a perfect six-pack partially hidden behind a very thick cock still standing at rock-hard attention. "Fuck!" it was more of a yelp than a shout. I quickly replaced it, as I heard blood rushing past my ears. I saw Anchor-Guy stiffen, and his hands suddenly became very occupied massaging water into his short sandy blonde hair. I turned to put my body wash on the ledge, but it slipped right off and hit the ground. I was just going to take a shower, ignore Anchor-Guy, and go home and beat my dick like it owed me money until I passed out. I had seen guys jerk off in front of me (usually on a computer screen). well, I could basically just end my membership and never come back.
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But if he heard me dashing out, and figured out it was me. Oh fuck! He is jerking off in the shower and he hasn't noticed me. I noticed the steady rhythm of movement in his shoulder and elbow. I stare sometimes, and right now I couldn't take my eyes off him, just staring at the collection of water-shiny muscles across his back, the narrow perfect hips and.Īs I stood there gaping, trying to figure out the proper key to my future musical work. God, I could write a fucking ode to that ass.
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And his ass, smooth, round and a little pink from the hot water that streamed down over it was on full goddamn display. His uncovered anchor tattoo had a little banner under it with the name 'Lone Warrior' in a curling font. Rather than deal with an aging insomniac, I tried to creep into the shower and take one stall near the door and-Īcross the room, under the steaming waterfall of the gym shower, stood Anchor-guy, facing towards the wall. Though I guess that one cranky bald guy could have come back in without me noticing. I turned the corner towards the showers and heard the high metallic whine of a faucet on full blast. Not there was usually anyone in here with me. So, you aren't standing right next someone but you can still see everyone across from you. Now the showers here aren't exactly communal per-se, but there were basically just dividers between the stalls. I'll admit to being self-conscious in most lockerrooms, but this late at night? I usually didn't even wrap a towel around my waist to head to the showers. I padded back into the lockerroom, still listening to music and peeling my clothes off. So while I had managed to convince myself to work out tonight, I only had enough energy to half-ass it.įorty five minutes later I was sore, sweaty, and ready to call it a night. There had been an issue at work, and it had taken forever to connect with the asshole running our sister office in California. It was closing on 4AM by the time I managed to get on to the cable-machine. Anchor-Guy was also a nice reason to go to the gym in the middle of the night. It was how I noticed the little anchor tattoo on his shoulder blade half-hidden by his tanktop.
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I'd spent a lot of time staring at the back of Anchor-Guy when he did free weights. I had no idea who he was, but he was everything you'd imagine from a gym bro: tall, broad- shouldered, arms and legs with movie-star definition, and an ass that practically fought to escape his little gym shorts. Despite Juan's jokes, I was here to sweat, not cruise.īesides, at 3 AM it was usually just me, a couple insomniacs, and the occasional business-drunk trying to sweat the booze out before going home to his wife.
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Even if I went there, there was no way any of those hard-bodied gym-gays were going to notice a scrawny Indian cybersecurity specialist trying desperately to put a little muscle on his chest. My friend Juan tried to convince me to join his gym downtown, but that place was a fucking meat-market. The best part of going to a 24-hour gym in the middle of the night was never having to talk to anyone.