The Gym Favor
Summer in the city was oppressive, the kind of heat that made every movement feel like a chore. For me, the only escape was the gym at ten in the morning. I usually walked there in shorts and a t-shirt, blending into the crowd of regulars. However, one particular man had caught my eye from the very first day. He looked to be about nineteen, with a rugged, masculine face and a physique that spoke of disciplined hours of heavy lifting.
For a while, I only watched him from the periphery, hoping my interest remained unnoticed. We didn’t speak until one afternoon when we happened to be at adjacent benches. He asked if I could spot him on the barbell, and I readily agreed. Over the next few days, we began coordinating our workouts, helping each other push through the final reps. We didn’t talk much, but I spent every second admiring the way his gym pants hugged his frame, especially when I stood behind him during his chest presses, catching a glimpse of the impressive bulge beneath the fabric.
Two days ago, as I was walking back to my apartment after a grueling session, I heard him call my name. He caught up to me, backpack slung over one shoulder, breathing slightly hard. He asked if he could walk with me, and as we chatted, he learned that I lived alone. Just as we reached the entrance to my building, he paused and looked at me with a tentative expression.
“Could I ask a huge favor?” he asked. “The showers at the gym are out of order, and I’m absolutely drenched. Could I possibly use yours?” I was stunned for a moment, the boldness of the request catching me off guard. He quickly added that he didn’t want to make me uncomfortable, but I found myself nodding before I could think better of it. “Sure, come on up,” I replied.
Once inside, I offered him breakfast, but he declined, insisting he only needed a shower. I pointed him toward the bathroom next to my bedroom and told him I would grab a clean towel. I assumed he would change in the bathroom, but when I returned to the bedroom, I found him already stripping off his clothes.
“Do you mind if I change in here?” he asked, his voice low. I told him it was fine and placed the towel on the bed. As I turned to give him privacy, I saw him slide his sweatpants down. His underwear was strained, housing a tremendous erection that left nothing to the imagination. I froze, staring openly. He noticed my gaze and gripped himself through the fabric, a smirk playing on his lips. “Is the view better now than it was at the gym?” he whispered.
I blushed furiously but nodded. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed down his underwear, exposing a thick, hard cock that pulsed with anticipation. He looked me in the eyes and gestured toward himself. “Do you want to touch it?”
I stepped closer, my heart hammering against my ribs. I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the heat and the velvet texture of his skin. He responded by gripping the back of my head, guiding me down toward him. I understood the silent request and sank to my knees on the edge of the bed. I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around the head before sliding deep, taking as much of him as I could handle.
I focused on the sensation, using my hand to massage his balls while my mouth worked rhythmically. I moved from slow, deep strokes to fast, teasing laps around the glans, listening to his breath hitch. He kept his eyes closed, lost in the pleasure I was providing. Suddenly, he tightened his grip on my hair, pressing me firmly against him. He didn’t say a word as he reached his peak, filling my mouth with his warm release. I swallowed instinctively, the intensity of the moment overriding everything else.
When he finally released me, he stood up and simply said he was going to shower. He emerged minutes later with a towel around his waist, dressed quickly, and thanked me. “Please don’t mention this to anyone at the gym,” he requested with a wink before leaving me breathless and confused in my own room.
The next day at the gym, it was as if nothing had happened. We spotted each other through our routines with professional courtesy. But as I prepared to leave, he leaned in close. “Think I might need to use your shower again sometime?” he asked. I smiled, feeling a spark of heat return to my chest. “Whenever you want.”