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Just trying it out.. "In Training"

Minicooperinundies

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Okay, so I decided the other day when I had posted a short story about myself and a watcher in the gym locker room that I wanted to expand upon that and add a few twists and turns and make a story out of my whole time at the gym. Here's the first "part", it may not be as erotic as most please, but please enjoy and feel free to leave comments.

In Training

July; it’s never a great time of the year to go back to the gym in July. Seriously; just don’t do it. I’ve done it and it really is no fun. Honestly, it isn’t any fun going back to the gym after a five-year absence at any time of the year. So there’s that.

But, at least it is a good time of the year to see the specimens of all types of guys walking in and out of the gym, in and out of the locker room, and even into the sauna or showers. Yes, that is a benefit. “Why is that a benefit?” you ask; well, because as a gay man, there are so many various stages of dress and undress that can get ones mind going faster than lightning in a bottle. You have the guys in their basketball shorts walking into the gym, most of the time free balling just for the shear ease of not having to worry about the laundry. Those are mostly younger guys, college-aged guys, which are great to observe. Then you have the guys that are seriously into the gym and have the rituals they go through every time they walk into the locker room. Some vary from just putting their shoes on a certain way, or making their protein shake a certain way, or even the way they wear their jock under their compression shorts. And then that leaves the rest of us, I’m not saying there aren’t some of the rest that aren’t worth looking at, on the contrary, a lot of the guys that are in the average range are hot, some are there to honestly become healthier, some are there to lose weight, some are there just for the scenery, and some are there because their partner insisted on returning to the gym because he hit the upper registry of his weight threshold and can’t take it any more and wants to lose weight.

If you couldn’t tell, I’m part of the last description. Shocking?! Really?! Were you even paying attention at the beginning of the story?! Why am I bothering? I’ll wait here. You go back and read that first “paragraph” again. Are you caught up now? Can I go on? Okay. Thanks.

Now, back to me. I’m not egotistical AT ALL, trust me, I wouldn’t lie. If you knew me, you would know that I am painfully shy. Seriously painfully shy. Unless I’m knockdown drunk, you wouldn’t even know I’m in the room, and even then you would only know I’m there because no one else would get a word in edgewise. But, come July of last year, my partner of thirteen and a half years decided that we needed to go back to the gym. I wasn’t fighting it though because in the past few years, after hitting my thirties, I started to notice that my spare ten-speed tire that I usually had around my midsection had turned into a full-fledged white-wall. And that’s not good for me; honestly, I suffer with body issues like most people. I don’t wear tank tops, I don’t like people to see me without sleeves, and don’t even think I’m taking my shirt off unless I’m in a foreign country. So, when I have the chance to go to the gym and work that off in my own fashion, I’m jumping on it.

I’m not trying to bore you with all the monotonous details of my day to day life, but I figured a little back story and insight into my psyche might help you vision yourself in my shoes throughout the story. See? There was a point!

So, after a couple of weeks of going to the gym with my partner every other day, he turns to me one day and says; “We need to hire you a trainer.” Wait, what?! Did I hear him right? A trainer? For me? Why? I thought I was doing my workout to my best abilities. I know I wasn’t working on my legs, but that’s because I have those cursed Eastern European thighs and calves that just seemed to develop on their own. My chest workout could use some help, but I was getting that desired burn after each set. My triceps and biceps weren’t anything to write home about, but it’s only been a couple weeks. And then there’s my shoulders; okay, you’ve got me there, you can literally see about two inches into my collarbone, so I need help there. But a trainer?! Really?! I don’t need some meat head walking around flexing his muscles and looking around and not paying attention to me while I’m struggling to even lift that twenty-five pound weight over my head for the third set. But whatever; if you think a trainer is going to help why not. So what do I actually end up saying? “Okay, can’t hurt to try.”

Well, that’s how it started. We talked to someone at the front, and started discussing what results I wanted to see, and how long we were thinking of signing me up for, and so on and so on. After about an hour and a half, we made an appointment for the following Monday at 10:30AM with, what they label as, a Master Trainer named Jack. In my head, I keep trying to picture what Jack looks like, and what he’s going to be like as a trainer. I’ve had a trainer before, and he was almost useless, so I didn’t know what to look forward to. But my anxiety levels kept going up as the day drew nearer and nearer. What would he think of me? Would he laugh when I can’t even do one pushup? Would he even want to have me on as a client? How much do I need to eat before I go in for the workout? Do I need to have special workout clothes to use a trainer? Oh my god! What have I got myself into? Well, Monday is only two days away, so I can’t back out now, plus, we’re paying a ridiculous amount of money for this, so I have to at least give it a shot right? Okay, calm down.

To be continued...
 
You have our attention and we cannot wait to find out what Monday had in store!
 
I admit I caught the "condensed" version of this, in another thread, but I like the approach you're taking here. You have a "neat" way of writing, expressing yourself, and I really dig your "talking" directly to your readers. :=D: ..|

I'm eagerly looking forward to More! (!) (group)

Of course ... No Matter What ...

Keep Smilin'!! :kiss: (*8*)
Chaz :luv:
 
I thoroughly interested. Maybe it will actually get me off my duff and go back to the gym...:jk: I'm afraid people would think there was a fire drill with the evacuation after me walking into a gym...:lol:

Nonetheless, I look forward to your experience with the trainer.

Craiger
 
Here's the next installment...;)

In Training... Part II
Monday morning: 9 AM.

Walking into the gym alone for the first time. Not as easy as most people think for me to do, but I’m doing it. That’s a milestone overcome, and that’s number one. I check in at the front desk, and ask them what to do, I’ve never had an appointment for a trainer at this gym before. They advise me to warm up in the cardio section and be at the trainer’s desk right below the cardio section about five minutes before my session.

So, I go into the locker room and change into my workout clothes. I just put on what I would normally wear to workout in, tennis shoes, no show socks, my boxers, loose fitting shorts, and a t-shirt. I carried a small towel as well just to make sure I don’t sweat all over the place. As I’m getting changed, the views inside the locker room become all too apparent, there are hot guys standing everywhere, some more built than others, some older than others, but regardless there is a man inside that room for every taste I’ve ever heard of. A guy that caught my eye just happened to be coming out of the shower area; he was slightly over 6 foot tall, medium chest build, biceps slightly above average, dark brown hair cut close to frame his face that was slightly wet; just like a spot that seemed to be forming on the front of my boxers. As he walked closer, he gave me a great view of his rear end, which was just on this side of perfect. I only know this because he had just dropped the towel in front of his locker and stood on it to get dressed. It’s hard to describe the roundness, the pertness, or how the beads of water slowly made their way from the small of his sculpted lower back and onto the flawless skin of his ass.

I was really trying not to stare, but when an opportunity like this comes along where you get to watch a veritable Greek demi-god, you take it as far as you can. Just when I thought time had slowed to a crawl and I would be able to admire his rear forever, he turned to the side and his package came into full view. If there was ever a time to wish for no one else to be around and the room to be isolated, this was one of those times. His cock hung limply in front of him, perfectly cut, a girth that would be at place on a sculpture, and a glorious set of balls that just hung there begging to be licked and fondled. What I wouldn’t give to be able to caress his cock in one hand, wrap my arm around his waist and clutch his ass with the other while my tongue explored every open plot of skin it could find.

Suddenly, I remembered the time, and with a furtive glance at the wall, only a few minutes had passed since I had changed into my workout clothes, so I had time to admire the sights as long as I liked just so long as I make do with slowly tying my shoes; however as I turned back to the scenery, I found that the gentleman had already pulled his boxer briefs up over his goods and stood preparing a protein shake in front of a full body mirror. I couldn’t decide which view was for the better, either naked or partially clothed. You see, aside from absolutely loving the male form, I also love the male form when just clothed in its undergarments. Boxers, briefs, bikini, thong, jocks, boxer briefs, etc.; it doesn’t matter what form they’re wearing they’re all holding in the goods and even sometimes a slight musk left behind. Something about the thought of those boxer briefs cupping his balls and cock made my own cock tingle and pulse against the fabric of my boxers. If I stared and slowly tied my shoes any longer though, someone might ask if I needed help in doing so. So against my penis’ wishes, I finished tying my shoes, stood up, and made my way out of the locker room, but not before turning my head to catch a final glimpse of him going through his routine to get dressed.

Well, we knew it would come to this point eventually. No not the end. What?! You want the end already? Jeez! I just got started. Tough! I’m going to ignore that and keep plugging through, and no that is not an allusion to anything; well, maybe.

Leaving the locker room, I head out to get started on my cardio workout. Not knowing how long I should be going for, I straddle a stationary bike and start pedalling away for ten minutes. I figured that’s long enough to get the heart rate up, but not too long that I would miss my appointment. Now, at my gym, as I’ve mentioned before, the cardio workout area is mainly up on the second floor so that it overlooks the whole gym floor, including the free weights section. So, if you pick the right machine, you have an eagle’s view of everyone working out, men and women using these powerful machines to better their health and physique. Of course, that’s why I’m in the stationary bike, they’re right on the edge of the level so you have an unobstructed view of everything down below. If you really wanted to “show off” you could ride on of these while going commando and give a few peepers down below a good show, but that’s if you wanted to. I haven’t seen it, but you never know. While on the bike, I look around, noticing everyone in their own little world, ear-buds in place, not noticing anyone around them and yet being noticed by everyone. It’s not like I’m new to the gym, we’ve belonged here for years now, it’s just that since I’m supposed to have a trainer now for a year, I wonder if I were to describe someone to him if he would know who I’m talking about and help me to get my form to that.

About five minutes into my “ride” I’m glancing around and see another man with a body to stop a Timex. He’s over six foot tall, jet black-close cropped hair, almost perfect symmetry of the face, arms bulging and ready to bust out of his t-shirt, legs the size of small tree trunks, and don’t even get me started on his groin area. Well, since you mentioned it, the groin area was definitely something to write home about. Not only because he was wearing loose fitting basketball shorts and his member still pitched a slight tent, or that when he walked away his ass muscles clenched and relaxed with almost perfect poetry timing, but because he didn’t seem to be embarrassed by anything. I only say that because as I’m upstairs sweating on this stupid machine, this veritable buffet of manliness walks toward the front to use a machine, and in doing so, has to bend over and tie his shoe. My jaw drops, mainly because I’m about to faint from the bike, but because that’s what I saw something I wasn’t expecting. “Oh my god! He’s wearing a jock!” I scream in my head. Just the sight of those two straps coming from under his glutes and up the sides makes my cock twitch again. I know it’s not an uncommon sight for some guys to just wear a jock while working out, but seeing as this is my first time spying this specimen, I’m put aback and intrigued. As he straightens back into the standing position to get situated on the machine, he thrusts his hips forward in a stretch. Oh and what a stretch. That jock was practically screaming with tension, at least it looked it to me. I haven’t seen a bulge that size in real life. How much I wouldn’t give to be in the shower room when he comes in. But that’ll have to wait, because for some reason my feet are spinning faster than ever. Looking back to my machine, I notice that my ten-minute workout had expired. “Crap! Now I have to go find Jack and see where we go from there.” I whisper to myself.

Just from reading this, you’d think I was a hound in the gym, well, maybe in the beginning, I mean, what self-respecting gay man doesn’t create fantasies in his head about the hot guys at the gym? Well, since this, I’ve changed a little. But I digress, back to Monday.

Heading downstairs, I turn around the bottom of the stairs and head over to the trainer’s desk area thinking that since I have the appointment in a few minutes that he would be standing there waiting. Well, I was partially right. Turns out, I didn’t account that there would be three other trainers waiting for their clients as well.

“Crap” I say out loud to no one but myself. And continue walking towards the desk.

Coming up to the front of the desk, I can eliminate at least two of the trainers: Women. So that leaves two guys. I remind myself: I’m the one paying for the trainer, nothing to be nervous about. So with that I gather all my courage and clear my throat to get their attention and ask:

“Excuse me. I’m looking for Jack, I’m a new client and have an appointment at 10:30.”

I fully expected the worst of the situation. You see, of the two men standing at the desk, one had shoulder length greyish-brown hair, a full-face beard, and what looked like a slight pot-belly. Not really my type of guy, but if he’s my trainer then so be it; it’ll make it easier to concentrate on the exercise I’m trying to do. Then there’s the other guy. Just thinking back to that first sight of him brings back memories. I’ll try to describe him from head to toe, as best as I can.

Slightly over six foot tall, probably six-one if I had to guess. Shaved head, slight five o’clock shadow, great dark blue eyes, chiseled jaw-line underneath the scruff with what looks like a scar on the right side of his chin, and then there’s his chest. My god was it a chest. It is no exaggeration to say that even with two layers of shirts on; one to workout in that’s sleeveless and one that covers that up for his professional appearance, I could still make out his awesomely toned pecs with his nipples at attention from the slight breeze of the A/C, then continuing down to his stomach, and again, even with the second shirt on, I can tell he has a nice five or six pack going on. You can just tell, the shirts are almost hanging off his pecs, but still clingy enough. That brings me to the groin…

TO BE CONTINUED...
 
Hope everyone is enjoying. The next installment is about ready for posting. Just have to proofread and edit a little.
 
Re: Just trying it out.. "In Training"

In Training...Part III

I really wasn’t trying to stare, considering I’d have to face this guy for a year, if he was my trainer even. So I just cast a quick glance over the shorts he was wearing, impressed to see a slight outline of a cock head facing to the right; figuring he’s right handed, and then down to his legs. My goodness, one of his legs was thicker than both of mine put together. Thighs with definition that would make a 4K TV look like an old fashioned tube from the twenties and calves that rival even the best cut of beef tenderloin. But I digress.

“Hey!” The muscular trainer said. “I’m Jack. I just need a couple minutes to put some of your information into my phone, let’s walk over to the pull-up machine and we can talk over there.”

It was taking all my willpower to not fall behind him while he walked to see his ass, so I kept stride with him and made small talk as we walked.

“What are you looking to get out of these sessions? I mean, what is the end result you’re looking for? More definition, lose weight, tone specific muscles?” Jack asked.

“Let’s just simplify things; Yes.” I quipped. Hopefully he doesn’t mind my breed of humor. “All of the above.”

“Great! Let’s get started and see what we can get through today so we know what areas we need to work on.” He stated as he showed me how to use the assisted pull-up machine.

“Are you sure we should have the weight up that high?” I asked with panic in my voice. “I don’t think I can pull-up one-sixty pounds.”

He laughed lightly. “That’s not what you’re lifting, or pulling up in this case. The machine is made to offset your weight so you’re pulling up the difference between your weight and what’s on the pin.” I could tell I was given the right trainer; he already had my mind at ease, and explained something I had never thought of before. “So get up here, adjust your grip so you’re holding onto the outside of the bars, and lower yourself just until your elbows are about to extend fully then come back up, pushing your chest forward while you do so to get the full stretch.” Jack continued, and when he saw the confused look on my face he demonstrated the exercise.
Of course I was paying more attention to the form he was using on the machine than the fact that his shirt was just short enough that when he came down to the bottom of the movement it rode up just enough to give me a glimpse of the glorious trail of dark hair that ran from his navel and disappeared into his shorts.

Taking his instructions in head, I got onto the machine nervously.

“Okay,” I thought to myself, “down, up, down up.” And just like that I was up on the machine, my body gently sliding down until I stopped it right before my elbows extended completely, that’s where the wonderful descriptions stop. I never thought I was out of shape, but when I tried to pull myself back up, it was like I weighed 3,000 pounds. “Oh my god! What am I doing?!” I screamed in my head. The panic was started to set in, that he would laugh. So despite my body screaming for me to stop, I made myself do ten pull-ups. Sweat started dripping off my forehead and even off my calves as they rested on the padded machine shelf.
As I got down off the machine, my head swam, my fingers felt prickly, and my breath was coming in short gasps.

“I…need..to sit…down.” I exclaimed between gasps for air.

“Okay,” He said with genuine concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just feeling a little light headed and my fingers went tingly” I said, cursing that I didn’t know a more technical term for “tingly fingers”.

“Take a few seconds and we’ll try for a second set.” He said, as he watched me catch my breath.
After what seemed like five minutes I got up off the bench I happened to collapse onto and looked at the clock. About one minute had passed since I had come off the machine. “My god, I am out of shape.” I thought. Or at least I thought I thought it, apparently I had actually vocalized it because Jack replied:

“Don’t worry about it, it’s your first time on the machine and with a trainer, I’m going to push your limits a little today just to see where you’re at physically, and each session we’ll reevaluate and see where we’re at. Do you think you’re ready for the next set?” Jack asked, again with concern in his voice.

“I don’t know if I’m ready, but I have to be.” I stated.

So I got back onto the machine, and tried my best to do ten more pull-ups. I got to about 6 and had to stop, the tingling had returned. I’m pretty sure I was beet red with embarrassment; my face was burning on top of the numbness moving through my limbs.

“I’m sorry Jack, I swear I’m not really this out of shape, I just don’t know what’s wrong with me today.” I said as nonchalant as I could, trying to make sure to hide the fear of failure that I’m sure was in my voice.

“It’s not a problem, no one is expecting you to be able to do a complete workout on your first attempt. Let me ask though,” He stated. I didn’t know where this was going, hopefully nowhere that I would need to make up a story. “How much and what did you have for breakfast? It seems like what you’re saying is feeling strange are symptoms of under nourishment before a workout.”

Oh thank god! That’s an easy answer.

“Well, I had a cup of coffee and one of those fiber bars.” Patting myself on the back because I remembered that I needed to eat something at least.

“That could be the issue. You need to make sure you’re making breakfast your biggest meal of the day to get you through; not only the workouts, but the rest of the day.” Jack said.

“I would never have thought of that, what do you recommend? I mean I have cereal and some microwave breakfast bowls with egg whites and turkey sausage. Should I have one of those?”

“I would say try both for a while to make sure you’re getting enough.”

“Wow! If I eat that much I’m going to blow up like a balloon!” I thought, but nodded my head and made a mental note to try that for a while and see how things go.

“Alright,” Jack started “Let’s move on for now to another exercise.”

And so we did; unfortunately I had the same result from the next moves he taught me, and was only able to get through two sets again. Having what little ego I had deflated so quickly makes for a reason to make as fast an exit as one can humanly make from the floor. But before I left, Jack handed me a book to keep track of our workouts and stated:
“Okay, we did good work today. We have a baseline to work with, next time we’ll try to get past that benchmark and reach another goal.” Jack quipped while holding a fist up for a bump, so I bumped his fist and took the book and started to walk away, again, Jack grabbed my attention and told me to schedule my next appointment. We settled for Wednesday at the same time. And I almost ran into the locker room to change and head to the sauna and hot tub and maybe a few laps of the pool. I might not be all that on the gym floor, but you get me in water and I’m almost like a fish. I wish that it earned me points with Jack towards our workouts.

Reaching my locker, I slid the key into my lock and opened the door. Inside, my gym bag sat with my trunks, towel, and shower kit. Sitting down onto the bench, I held my head in my hands and tried to regain my composure before even attempting to strip down and change into my swim trunks.

Okay, so, we’ve finished my first workout and…what? I thought we discussed this? I’m not going through every little detail of my workouts. You want what? Hey! I’m not describing myself. Why would I? Oh. Well, I guess that would help. But, why do I have to be..Okay fine! Sheesh.

Since you’re practically in my head, you might as well have a visual of what I look like so you can see the transformation as time moves on. That is if you keep reading. So, personally I don’t think I’m anything special, but to describe myself to you I’d start by saying my hair is a dark blonde and short. I like to keep it messy, that way I can just roll out of bed and be ready for the day. As I stated before, as we move down, I don’t really have a defined jawline, but my nose is slightly rounded and my chin has a slight cleft to it. My chest isn’t anything to write home about unless you’re writing about a slightly overweight gay man in size 36 pants.
 
Lordy! After that chapter, I know I won't be going to your gym.... First off, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the workout having a trainer such a Jack. Next, my heart would give out in the midst of a set... Of course that could be interesting. Maybe my trainer would have to give me mouth to mouth resuscitation. Fun chapter, MCIU......

Craiger
 
Thanks for the feedback! The next installment should be ready sometime soon. :-) Let me know how you like the direction of it all so far (and yes a majority of the story is true, but names and some people have been made up) LOL
 
I'm certainly looking forward to More! (!)

Your story with the gym, working out, shower, sauna, pool, locker room, etc., has brought back memories, and has prompted me to make a "confession". !oops!

Make no mistake, I've never been what might be considered a "Gym Guy". [-X

However, after college, circumstances lead me to become roommates with one of the most Beautiful, 4yr. younger than me, "small town innocent" Hunks, "straight" to his core, who was also a member of the team I was supervising at work. It was His idea/request, and, as far as I know, he had NO idea I was Gay. \:/

O.K.! I know! Lot's of "Red Flags" there! #-o

My devious mind came up with a plan just to see him naked, and maybe "relax" more around our apartment. I convinced him to join a "Health Club" with me. :badgrin:

Now, don't get me totally wrong. I was also hoping he might inspire me to get into the same awesome shape that he was in. ..|

That didn't quite happen, though. #-o

We signed up, together, for a year. Only ended up going maybe 6 times, total. ](*,)

It turned out he wasn't all that motivated to motivate me. I mean, it wasn't something He needed as much as I did! :lol:

SO ... what happened was that I saw him naked, Once! And, he just smiled, knowing I was scoping him, and went on about his way to the sun tan booth. That brief image of Him was emblazoned on my brain FOREVER! (!)

Of course, there was SO much more "Eye Candy" wondering around the gym. For now, so this doesn't turn into a novel, I'll leave it at that.

The "cut to the chase" point is, I never saw him Naked, at home, except for that one gym encounter. ](*,)

However, we did often hang out, in just our "tighty whities", toking, and listening to Allen Parsons. Living with him resulted in my rubbing "Animal" nearly RAW, in the confines of my own bedroom. *|*

If only He knew! Well ... maybe He did. :-< (group)

In all cases ... and ... No Matter What ...

Keep Smilin'!! :kiss: (*8*)
Chaz :luv:

NOW ... Let's get on with YOUR story! :gogirl: ..|
 
In Training Part IV

So, as I’m standing up to put on my trunks, nothing special happened. Honestly, not every sentence of this is going to have a description of a random hot guy walking through the locker room clad in nothing but a towel that barely covers his bulging member only being held in place by a small swath of Velcro. I got changed into my swimming trunks and headed into the sauna/shower area. Opening the door to the sauna, I stepped in and grabbed a seat on the bottom bench and tried to regain my composure. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but my head was still spinning from the workout. It felt like I was going to pass out, but I figured the sauna would help to calm me down because of the quiet and darkness. Like any other self-respecting man, I was not going to ask anyone for help, so this had better work. As I sat there, a few men walked in, a few men walked out, nothing big to report, no huge meat market to window shop, but I was starting to regain some of my senses. Just as I was feeling better though, my time was basically up, so I had to go out to the hot tub. Out of the fire as they say. Stepping out of the sauna, the cold air hit me like a ton of bricks, causing goose bumps to rise all over my body.

I quickly showered and walked out to the pool area. I half expected to see a pool full of the elderly, mainly because on the way in, there was a waterobics class in session. And there was some definite buoyancy in that water let me tell you. But, to my surprise, there were only a few people, two women; who looked to be of middle age, but with their water caps and goggles on, one can never tell, and one guy. I only remember the guy because I just couldn’t stop staring. His body was lean and smooth; the water seemed to glide over his body as his long sinewy arms cut through the water. His strokes that of a professional, almost as if they were timed perfectly to know how many he would need to make the exact length of the pool. He reached one end, and made for the turn, just like in the Olympics he did the underwater flip, and as he did so his legs came above the water line, just like the rest of his body, they were compact and not overly muscular. But unlike the rest of his body, that I could see, there were flecks of leg hair, leading me to think that he may not shave entirely. Thank goodness. Not that I have anything against anyone that decides to go completely hairless; but just not my choice. Well, for the other guy, because I like to shave my chest, back, and really trim short the groin area, I have some upkeep on my upper arms, and as of this trip to the gym, I happened to trim a little bit further south on my legs, not far, just down to about trunk level, or about two inches down the legs. But back to the swimmer; as I walked past the end of the pool down to the sauna, I tried to keep pace with his strokes to better be a creeper and check him out some more. But, the walkway ended before the pool, at least to the sauna. So, since there’s a lifeguard and glass windows looking outside, it’s only polite to not completely stare and make a scene; therefore, I just decided to quit my gawking and get into the hot tub.

The water in the hot tub felt extremely hot on my skin, it could just be because I had just gotten out of a slightly chilly shower to wash off the sauna sweat, or it could just be that the hot tub temperature was set to two degrees below the lakes of hell. But, in the spirit of making my muscles not hurt in the morning, I endured the heat, and sat for about ten minutes; all of which I spent looking to see if my swimmer pal would be getting out of the pool and heading in for a shower. Unfortunately, it seems I had just walked into the beginning of his workout, because he just kept swimming, back and forth; and after my ten minutes in boiling water, I was ready to get out and take a quick cooling dip in the pool. So, removing myself from the hot tub and standing in the cool air of the pool, my skin, once again, broke out into goose bumps all over, so I quickly walked down to the end of the pool with the walk-in steps, just to make the transition from hot to cold a little more easy. It turns out; my swimmer pal was in the first lane cooling down himself, with some stretches and slow laps. So I just sat down at the bottom of the steps and let the cold water wash over me. After a few seconds, I was ready to get out and shower and head home. It wasn’t that I had a specific time frame to have all this done, but it was mainly because I could see my swimmer walking towards me, and it looked like he was done, so I stood up and grabbed my shower belongings, and headed into the locker room/shower area to wash off the chlorine and to scope out a great vantage point when he came in to wash off himself. See? I had a plan! I mean, it’s not like I couldn’t think clearly just because the blood flow to my brain seemed to be slightly diminished because of the workout and the other draw from down there.

As I turned on the shower to let it warm up, wouldn’t you know it, but swimmer walked in and decided to just grab the shower that was diagonally setup from mine. I was silently praying in my head that he would happen to leave the back of his shower curtain a little askew so I would be able to have a little peek myself.

“Oh please, oh please, oh please, oh please” I silently pleaded.

My prayers must have been heard, but maybe I prayed a little too hard, because he happened to turn and face me, and then proceeded to strip his speedos off, giving me a great view of his complete body from head to toe. And boy was I not disappointed either; you see, as it turns out the razor hadn’t been so absolute in his nether-regions and left his cock and balls in a well kept but short bush. Oh, this was going to turn out to be fruitful. His shower had warmed up greatly, and he stepped into his stall and pulled the curtain closed with just enough force that the back side of the curtain came away from the rear of the stall and left a great viewing angle for anyone in my stall; wait, that’s where I was. JACKPOT!
 
Ah, the goings on in a gym shower area... My gym had an open shower area, no stalls and the hot tub was right there. So lolling in the hot tub gave a perfect view of everyone in the showers. Besides, there was more of a show as some would climb up into the hot tub... I usually looked like a prune when finally, after being parboiled, got out and showered myself. Excitement all over the place.

Nice respite after such a rough workout. Thanks for a fun chapter, MCIU.

Craiger
 
Re: Just trying it out.. &quot;In Training&quot;

Glad you enjoyed the chapter Craiger. Another is coming up right now. I've been on a writing kick, so that's why the parts are coming fast and heavy. ;)

- - - Updated - - -

In Training... Part V​

He turned his body left and right, causing his cock to swing between his legs, it had to be at least six inches and it wasn’t even hard. “Mother of God” I thought, “This is the best day ever.” The water from the showerhead sprayed over his head, down over his tightly closed eyes, around his lips, and over his chin. From there it continued to run over his well-defined chest, over his pectorals, down to his abdominals and over each and every single one those; it almost made a complete path over all six of them. For some reason, my eyes snapped back up to his face and; “Oh Shit!” My mind exploded. He was looking back at me. But wait, he wasn’t making to close the curtain! In fact; Jesus Lord Almighty, he turned his body to show off his package. His left hand caressed his chest, while the right reached behind him and pumped some of the body wash the gym provides into his palm, and then he proceeded to lather up his chest and groin. He knew I was watching, and was putting on a show. Awesome! Let’s see how far he’ll go. As the lather continued to build on his cock, his hands were gentle yet firm and tugged on his balls and gave a few short strokes of the shaft, turning as he reached the head, gathering a little speed as he went. Standing there, I could see the show he was putting on was definite turning him on, his cock had grown to at least two times it’s soft-stage and was starting to point straight out in front of him.

Suddenly my shower stall seemed impossibly small, I had never imagined that something like this would happen, let alone to me; let alone at my local gym! But I didn’t want to be rude and only have him in the party, so I made a motion and opened my shower curtain slightly, just to give him a view. Apparently I’m not all that shabby in that department, because as I looked over to his stall, he gave a slight nod, and continued to stroke his cock, making motions like he was soaping up. Maybe he was, I don’t know, but when someone tugs on their cock multiple times in your direction and nods WHILE continuing to stroke, there’s an unspoken “bond” made. The exhilaration was amazing. I never dreamed that I would even be taking part in anything like this; of course without having any previous experience in public shower stall masturbating, I just followed his lead. My ears were on high alert to anyone that might be walking down the middle of the showers, apparently for no reason. I stood there with my hot water streaming over my body, matching this very attractive swimmer stroke for stroke on my own cock. Not to brag, but at seven-and-a-half inches, I don’t think I’m anything to; pardon the pun, shake a stick at, so when his eyes traveled over my own body,

I felt like a million dollars. Regardless if it was only because he was horny, or if it was because I was the only person who took him up on the exhibition that day, but it was getting more and more difficult to hold back on my climax, but I didn’t want to finish first so I made more of a show for him. I decided to lather up and wrap my forefinger and thumb around my balls and lightly tug on them, forcing my cock out directly in front of me. In turn, he would alternate hands on his cock and stroke once or twice and switch hands. Each of us using copious amounts of the body wash soap they supply in the stalls. Soon, it became even more apparent that we were both very close to going over the edge, so brazenly, I leaned out of my stall to see how many others were showering with us, to my surprise not another soul was showering at that time. I decided to take this a step further; no, I didn’t stand in the middle of the showers and shoot my load, I stepped back into my stall, opened my curtain further, and stood facing him. That step must have been the step he was looking for, because he also pulled back the curtain on his stall. After what seemed like an eternity of stares and nods, my body started to feel the all too familiar tingle of oncoming orgasm; I made motions to convey my impending explosion and he looked down and nodded too.

I took a more stable stance in my stall, tugged my balls one more time, and with a low guttural grunt let loose my first volley of cum. It shot out of my cock with such force that I needed to lean back against the wall of my shower, the second shot came with such vigor that I needed to steady myself against the wall. I looked over to his stall, and it became evident that I was not the only one enjoying this. His own cock had reached its limits, because as my member kept unloading its seed all over the floor of my shower, his own was spewing shot after shot of his cream onto the floor. Each spasm of his thighs and buttocks shot his hips forward and another stream of cum out; at which I counted at least four to five long streams of his load with no end in sight. Soon though, my cock was devoid of any more of my load and started to become incredibly sensitive. I released my cock and observed his movements, he must have the same endurance for his climax time, because he had released his member and stood leaning against the back of his shower stall as well, there was a strand of his load trailing from his head and swaying with every breath, threatening to attach itself to his left thigh. After the moment seemed to end, I turned back to my shower, and rinsed off whatever of my load had landed on myself. It didn’t take long, but to my chagrin, he had cleaned up a lot faster. So I toweled off and gathered my things. Maybe I’d see him again on Wednesday; I don’t know when everyone is going to be coming to the gym, but lets hope he’s a regular.


As I left the shower area, a few other men came into the area, clad in nothing but towels, not really too much to write home about, but a few lookers. Regardless, I had been here for a little over two hours, so I needed to get home. If I was lucky, I might catch sight of my swimmer, getting into his clothes. Secretly; I was hoping I would, that way I would have an image of what underwear he chose, if any. Unfortunately, it was not meant to be; he was a quick-change artist in another life apparently, because he was nowhere to be seen. You see, the locker room at my gym has randomly placed mirrors for you to groom in, and from any vantage point in the changing area, you can spy into them and see guys in the other sections of the locker room.

I took advantage of them and tried seeing if he was still there to no avail. “Oh well, might as well just get dressed.” I thought to myself “This has been an eventful day, might as well call it at that.” And with that I finished getting dressed, headed out of the locker room, and walked to my car. Placing my bag onto the passenger side, I slid into the drivers seat, took a deep breath, started my car, and drove home.


So, you’ve been with me for my first day to the gym with my trainer. I think we should jump forward, but there’s a couple other days that held breakthroughs that I want to share with you. I know, it’s boring and tedious to listen to me describe the exercises we did: Pull-ups, push-ups, lunges, shoulder press, push-and-press, inverted rows, renegade rows, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera; therefore, I won’t explain each days exercises and movements, but I might slip but only if it helps explain the situation. Well, enough of a break, let’s move on to my next appointment with Jack: The following Wednesday at 10:30 AM.
 
Excellent chapter, Buddy! *|* (!) (!w!)

I'm sure I'll be dreaming about "swimmers" tonight! :badgrin: (group)

Keep Smilin'!! :kiss: (*8*)
Chaz :luv:
 
Sometimes the stars are aligned in such a way that everything works out like clockwork. No interruptions! Of course the thought of someone walking in adds to the excitement and intensity of the moment. What a wonderful way to "relax" from a rough workout...may it happen time and time again.....:-) You'll look forward to those workouts just gain the reward. A very erotic chapter, MCIU.

Craiger
 
Hey Guys! Sorry for the long delay in posts, hit a bit of road block and hope to be over soon.:-)
 
Every so often the Muse needs to take a break. She may be out with a heavy hangover after partying too much. She'll return and you' ll forget she was ever gone. In the mean time, we will be here waiting.

Craiger
 
In Training...Part VI​

Wednesday: Some Day in July: 9:45 AM:

Does that sound official enough? I was trying. What? Well, if you don’t like it don’t read anymore. It’s you who’s going to miss out on the ball-draining orgy that happened today… did that get your attention? Good! ‘Cause that didn’t happen; or did it I’ll never say. *Insert evil laugh here.

Let’s see, it’s 9:45 AM, and it’s Wednesday, so that means I’m either at the gym or on my way, since this was my second appointment with Jack, I made sure before I left the house that I had eaten a horse-sized breakfast to hopefully stave off the light-headedness and the tingly feelings. I also ate about an hour before leaving for the gym, to make sure my body had enough time to digest and not want to, well, for lack of better terms regurgitate my stomach contents all over the gym floor. That doesn’t make for a good erotic story, unless you’re into that sort of thing; I’m not judging, but this is not one of those types of stories.

Walking up to the front desk, I hand over my membership tag to the attendant to scan me in and get my workout day started. She gives me a chipper “Hi!” and “Thanks” after my membership had been verified. So I walked past her and into the gym and just after the desk I ran into one of my friends I knew from the outside world. I stopped for a second to talk to him.

“Hey Jim! How are you?” I asked

“Well, I’ve been better, but it’s a good day. At least my mom’s air conditioning is working.” He said. Now, I feel like I need to explain at this point that Jim is slightly older than me, by about thirty years. He has a slightly overweight look to him; but he is a regular at the gym, he just doesn’t change much about his diet to facilitate weight loss or muscle gain, so I constantly think to myself why he keeps coming to the gym. Oh, I should also mention that Jim is like me, he’s gay. I know, right?! Amazing that two gay guys belong to the same gym, wait, this isn’t the 1950’s…there are probably a lot more gay guys at my gym that I don’t even know about. We can only hope. Okay, back to Jim; he lives about a mile away from his mother who just lost her husband earlier this year, so he can be at the ready in case she needs him for anything. That’s why when he says that her air conditioning is working, that’s a good thing because nothing is worse than having to worry about your parents in sweltering heat.

“That’s good! How about you and Tony; are you doing good?” I asked

“We’re working on it. I really messed up, but things are working themselves out slowly. Time will tell.” He stated matter-of-factly. He and his boyfriend of two years had recently broken up only to reconnect a few months later, but Jim did a stupid thing and the day they decided to get back together he posted an ad on Craigslist wanting someone to come over to his place and give him a “massage”. Yeah, that wasn’t smart; not because of the ad, but because of the fact that his boyfriend decided to check out Craigslist for something and ran across his ad. Wow, talk about awkward situation. But, after a month of talking, and much mediation on our part; my partner and I, they were back together solidly and back on track.

“Well, I’m off to my training session.” I stated, and made to walk away.

“Oh! Which trainer do you have?” Jim asked. I didn’t know why it mattered, since Jim wasn’t with a trainer. So I answered:

“I have a session with Jack today, I just started on Monday and this is my second time.”

“You have Jack as a trainer?! Oh my. You are certainly lucky! He’s the only trainer I’ve seen around for more than a year. They have so many other trainers that come and go, that I can’t keep track of them, but Jack has been here through them all. And his ass?! It’s the stuff dreams are made of.” Jim was almost drooling. I guess I need to explain that Jim has a “thing” for muscle men. All sizes are fine as long as they have visible muscles, Jim is all over that. And it just so happens that Jack falls at the top-most echelon of Jim’s scale. I have to admit that he would be in my wheelhouse too if he was just a little slimmer. But that’s just me. Who am I kidding, I wouldn’t kick Jack out of bed for eating crackers while dripping molasses all over my 800-thread count sheets.

I just shook my head and said: “If I don’t go get changed, I probably won’t have a trainer for long. See you later Jim.”

Into the locker room I headed. The usual tirade of men lined the lockers in various stage of undress once again, but I still didn’t have a grasp on who was a regular, who was a fly-by-nighter, or if any of them were actually working out. For all I know they were here for the show in the locker room. I don’t know. But, again, I’m off the track. Getting to a locker along the right side of the middle bank of lockers, I open the door, find it empty and deposit my outside clothes and change into my workout gear. “This time, I am so going to get through those exercises without passing out and I won’t even complain.” I give myself this little pep talk, in efforts to get into the right mindset and hopefully make a better impression on Jack.
So, I walked out of the locker room, and suddenly remembered that I had forgotten my workout-tracking book that Jack had given me after our last session. “Shit, shit, shit!” I whisper furiously. “I hope I put that book in my back pack and didn’t leave it somewhere.” As I turn around to head into the locker room, I notice my swimmer is back, and walking toward me. I wonder if he remembers our last encounter; but enough of that, I need to get my book. So I turn back into the locker room and head back to my locker, take out my key, and open the door. Digging through my backpack, I find the book and silently thank the Gods for my luck. Shutting my locker, I turn to the bench to grab the book that I placed there and what a sight I get as I turn. My swimmer was there, changing, or at least making it seem like he was changing. It might have been hard to get undressed, but either way, I enjoyed what I saw. Everything was just as I remembered from our shower, but one thing was different, he still had on his underwear. And I was loving his choice of garment: Boxer Briefs Trunk Cut! The same that I wear! I looked up and he had turned to face me. Our eyes met and he smiled. “Hi! Are you new to the gym?” He asked.

“I, um, uh; yeah. I just started back a couple weeks ago, but my first time here. You?”

“Nah! I’ve been coming here for a long time; at least five years or so.” He answered.

“Cool! You a trainer here?” I asked, wondering if that was even possible, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a trainer working out at the gym.

“Nope.” He chuckled “Why? You need a trainer?”

“Oh no! I have a trainer; Jack. I was just wondering since you obviously have been working out.”

“Ah, well.” He blushed and adjusted his crotch area. “I’ve been working hard at this, it’s a couple years in the making.”

“Well, I should get going, maybe I’ll catch up later and see if you got a few pointers to help me out.” I blurted without thinking. Oh crap! What did I just say? Oh no, he’s going to think I’m some stalker. Oh well, shot in the dark and all.

“Yeah! I’ll put together a few things. What’s your name by the way?”

“Brandon.” I said holding out my hand to shake, “But my friends call me Andy, Rand, Brad; well, really they call my anything and I’ll answer. And you?”

“Erik, with a ‘k’. I think my friends just call me Erik. Some may have called me Rick at some point. Not sure.” He joked as he grasped my hand and shook firmly.

“Nice to meet you Erik. I’ll be seeing you.” I croaked. For some reason my throat had completely gone dry; but once it was said, I let go of his hand and turned to leave the locker room.

Once outside the locker room, I needed to steel myself to make sure I didn’t fall over from what just happened, but I only had a moment, because I was running behind and needed to get upstairs to get my cardio workout in before starting with Jack. So I took the steps two at a time and was upstairs in no time. Finally in front of the cardio machines, all the bicycles were full; what are the odds I say?

“Well, I guess I need to learn another machine.” I said to no one in particular, and wandered over to the machines that looked like the elliptical machine crossed with a step machine. I stepped on and started walking away. I wont bore you to death with the details of my cardio workout, just know that I spent twelve minutes on that machine and five minutes on cool down then stretching and such; all before I went to meet with Jack.

“Hey Jack!” I said as I walked up to the trainer desk.

He turned and looked up from his computer. “Hey Brandon! Glad to see you came back for more. How’s the day treating you?”

“Doing good, I had a big breakfast, so we should be good there. Ha ha.”

“Let’s see how we do. Ready to get started?”

“Certainly!”
 
Interesting....Brandon meets Erik.....and not even in the showers. I'm sure there will be a few pointers Erik will be able to supply. Fun chapter, MCIU.

Craiger
 
In Training...Part VII​
And at that we went over to the pull-up machine again. I groaned internally, I hadn’t prepared for this. Well, maybe I had, but considering that the machine works with you facing the rest of the gym, it brought concerns to my mind. But I was falling behind on Jack as he walked to that area. Mind you, it was a great view to be falling behind; it looked like he hadn’t worn any underwear today. Either that or I really need to work on my “Boxers VS. Briefs” status. Could have been a jock though. Come to think of it; it was, because his ass cheeks were so pert, the height of them really could be explained by the supporting straps of a good jock. Really, I appreciate the jockstrap and all it does for athletes and us who like to look at athletes. But again, side tracked from the workout.

We eventually arrived at the pull-up machine again, and he opened my workout book and started to jot down the exercises I was to attempt today. I couldn’t really tell what he had written, but I knew I was going to give it my all.

“Alright Brandon, so, we’re going to try our pull-ups again. This time, we’re going to set the goal for three reps of ten and see what we get to, but let’s get to that ten. Alright?”

“I’m going to try my best!” I blurted out. Wow. That kind of came out of nowhere.

So, I got on the machine; yet again, and; yet again, I attempted my pull-ups. I got through the first set completely. I know! I was even surprised, and I was the one doing them! So I climbed down off the machine and took a big drink of water, my mouth was as dry as the Mojave in August. What? I don’t know. I just figured that since the word “desert” is in the name that it doesn’t rain there all that often. Are you seriously going to make me fact check right now?! No? Okay. Thank you. Now, where was I? Oh yeah! I just finished my first set of pull-ups and had taken a drink of water.

“Way to go Brandon! You made it through a complete set without having to stop. That’s progress in my book!” Jack smiled at me as he said this. It made me feel good knowing that he was in my corner.

“Thank you! I’m surprised I got through that. Two more to go though, so I can’t sit back yet.” I said; knowing full well that my arms were already screaming at me, and I didn’t know how I was going to get through two more of those sets. But I had to try; so I climbed back on the machine and started the usual up-down motion to get through the set. Amazingly enough though, I was able to get through four or five pull-ups before my arms started to really hurt and burn making me slow down and almost come to the complete bottom of the machines movement. But that was the least of my worries I would come to find out. As I “rested” in between reps, trying to catch my breath, the old familiar feeling from Monday was creeping back; the tingly feeling in my extremities, the light-headedness, and the inability to actually catch my breath. This is bad.

“Uh, Jack. I need to get down.” I plead; “I’m having trouble breathing and my arms feel like they’re falling asleep.”

“Okay,” Jack started, “Why don’t you come down, we’ll call that a set. What did we get to?”

“I. Think. I. Got. To. Six.” I panted as I climbed down off the machine and quickly made my way to a nearby bench. I planted my ass down so fast; I thought I was going to fall over off the back of the bench. Suddenly my head was swimming even more severe and my breath was coming quick and short. Could I be having a heart attack? It can’t be. I don’t have any tightness in my chest, just the shortness of breath. I needed something, but what? Suddenly Jack was there.

“Deep breaths. In through the nose and out through the mouth.” He coaxed. My posture was of defeat, my head in my hands, almost in between my knees. “Come on, let’s focus and get through this.”

I didn’t even notice that he had knelt down in front of me. And then his hand was on my shoulder with light pressure. If my passing out were not a major issue in my head right now, I would so be getting a hard-on; but as it stood, I could barely notice if my blood was even circulating in my arms, let alone my cock. Then there was his warmth, his hand on my shoulder suddenly warmed me through my shirt, and the dizziness started to subside as well as the tingling sensation in my arms. How could that be? How is it that just the simple touch of a hand could cause these symptoms to go away?

“Brandon, listen, deep breaths in through the nose and then out through the mouth.” Jack continued. “Let me ask you, with the descriptions you gave me on Monday and what’s happening today, I wonder: Have you ever had problems with anxiety attacks?”

“Anxiety?” I asked a little more quizzical than I probably should have. I mean, anxiety attacks are for weak people who can’t deal with everyday life. I mean, what would I have to be anxious about? “Not that I know of. Why?”

“Well, I have quite a few clients that have told me that they have those same symptoms, and they’re seeing someone because of the anxiety. If this is an anxiety issue, any idea what could have triggered it? I mean, let’s just say that it is an attack and try to think about what caused it.”

“Um, well, I guess if we’re saying it’s an anxiety attack; that the cause of the attack could have been the positioning of this machine. I mean; I’m looking out onto the gym floor and almost every machine there. And every time I look, I keep thinking that everyone’s eyes are on me and judging me.”

“Okay! That’s a start. But let me tell you something;” Jack’s voice barely audible over the droning of the dance music coming out from the isolated Zumba class next to the pull-up area. “No one gives a shit about what you’re doing. No one is watching you. No one cares how your form looks. Look around. How many women do you see making eye contact, or just staring at the ground? How many do you see looking at any one of those guys out there? How many of those guys out there are even looking this way?”

As he said that, I started to look, and noticed everyone was looking everywhere but at anybody else on the floor.

“Here’s what I’ve learned over the years of working out and training: No one gives a shit about what you’re doing. The women that are here working out barely ever look up or away from their walking path; mainly because if they happen to catch the eye of one of these guys, they know they’re in for a pick-up line. Most of the guys are busy looking at the women hoping to catch their eyes so they can actually hit on them. And if anyone is really looking around, they’re just looking to make sure the machine they need next is open. In other words: no one is watching you. So the anxiety you’re feeling over people paying attention to you or making fun of you behind your back or talking about you is probably unfounded. Just relax, take some deep breaths, and a few swigs of water and we’ll try again.” Jack said as I sat there composing myself.

I did what he said. I relaxed. I took some drinks of water, I closed my eyes, I took some deep breaths and renewed my determination to get this set done. So I got back on the machine, hands on the crossbar, and readied myself to finish off these damn pull-ups. Up-down-up-down-up-down. And so on, I actually lost count, but I think I was up to seven; at least I passed my last set. Here comes eight, and then down again. Slowly I was pulling myself up for the ninth, my arms were shaking and I was definitely ready to be done, so once my chin was up to the bar, I put my feet off the pad and onto the steps down. Panting and sweating profusely I stepped down off the machine, almost ran to my water bottle, and sat down.

“That was a great set!” Jack praised. “What did we get to on that one? Nine? That’s better than the six from the last set.”

“Thanks. I. Really. Tried. On. That. One.” I said in between breaths.

“Well, you did good on that one. Take a breather and we’ll try to move onto a new exercise.”

Another?! Did he just say another? I can barely stand up and he wants me to do another one? Is he crazy?
 
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